


Moonlit Blood

by Iamyournexus



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Idiots in Love, Love, Love Confessions, M/M, Vampires
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-04
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-16 09:27:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 26,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29205102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iamyournexus/pseuds/Iamyournexus
Summary: Post S4. No Mary. No Rosie. Sebastian died in the war.First fic.Constructive criticisms are welcome, please be kind :)Not abandoned - just taking a break
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8





	1. Chapter 1

**Wednesday Evening**

It was late in the evening when Lestrade fell into his office chair with a "whump". 

It has been a long 2 weeks of catching up on paperwork from the last murder case they had solved (with Sherlock's help of course). Running on only a few hours of sleep each night, he was both exhausted and restless. He raised his hands and rubbed his eyes, desperately trying to stay awake; he needed to finish up a few more loose ends before he called it a night. 

It was then, that his phone pinged. 

Groaning and fishing into his pocket to retrieve his mobile, he swiped it open. 

Have you seen Dr. Watson of late? - MH 

Lestrade swallowed nervously. Mycroft never cared about the daily whereabouts of one, John Hamish Watson. This must be serious. 

No, not since Sunday afternoon - GL 

That was 3 days ago, has John been missing for 3 days? He panicked. 

Sherlock doesn't know where he is? - GL 

I don't think my brother knows he's missing - MH

Meet me at Baker Street - MH 

On my way - GL

Now with adrenaline-fueled dread, Greg grabbed his coat and headed out of his office, and headed outside to his cruiser. 

It was another dreary night in London. The sky was filled with rain clouds that threatened to downpour at a moment’s notice. Traffic, luckily, wasn’t abhorrent as he made his way to Baker Street. 

Mycroft was waiting at the steps of 221B. He looked as he has always had. In a stunning three-piece suit, complete with his signature umbrella. As he finished relaying his final commands to Anthea as she ducked back into the nearby black sedan, an insincere smile painted on his face as Lestrade exited his vehicle and approached the elder Holmes. 

"Nothing on CCTV I assume?" Greg asked. 

Mycroft sighed and shook his head. 

"The last we have of him is leaving Sunday evening to go to Tesco, but he never made it there. He went missing somewhere between Melcombe and Glentworth St."

"That's literally around the corner Mycroft! How could he be lost that quickly?" Greg pinched the bridge of his nose, he felt a headache coming on

"I do not concern myself with the day-to-day goings-on of my brother and his flatmate. So obviously I wasn't surveilling them in depth at the time. It was only brought to my attention an hour ago when Anthea noticed she hadn't seen the Doctor's whereabouts in her latest briefing".

"...and" Greg pushed. 

Mycroft sighed once more and fiddled with his umbrella. 

"And the GPS tracker that we had in his phone had gone dark".

Greg's eyes went wide. 

"Jesus... What do you think happened? Kidnapping?" raking his hands through his hair. 

Greg looked up to meet Mycroft's eyes. 

Mycroft arched his eyebrow. 

"Let's not jump to conclusions before we speak with my brother". 

And as if on cue, the door opened, and there stood Mrs. Hudson smiling and inviting them in. 

"Hello Mrs. H" Lestrade said pleasantly. 

"Oh it's good to see you Detective Inspector '' she leaned and kissed his cheek and he hugged her back. 

"Evening, Mrs. Hudson" Mycroft tried to smile. 

"...Mycroft ''. 

Mrs. Hudson replied in a flat tone only acknowledging Mycroft's existence. 

Turning back to Lestrade, "He's upstairs, terribly quiet the last few days. Have you seen John? I'm afraid I haven't seen the poor dear since Sunday''

"Did something happen Mrs. H?" Lestrade trying not to sound too panicked. 

"Oh no, nothing of the sort. I just get nervous when it's too quiet up there. It reminds me too much of the time when Sherlock was..." And Mrs. Hudson trailed off, her eyes now avoiding the two of them. 

They both knew what she was alluding to. Sherlock was gone for 2 years, dismantling Moriarty's network. He had convinced the world (or tried to) that he was a fraud and consequently committed suicide because he could no longer keep up the lie. Ironically, that was the lie; that he was the fraud. He had really faked his death to save the life of himself, Mrs. Hudson, and more importantly: John. Mrs. Hudson saw first hand how Sherlock's “death” had affected John. He hardly ate or slept, until she had to intervene (which included stealing his gun and hiding it). Slowly but surely, Mrs. Hudson brought John back from the brink. And when Lestrade had told Sherlock about it in a private conversation after his return, he made sure to pay for a month-long vacation in the Bahamas for her. 

John was everything to Sherlock. If Lestrade had to guess, he was as important (if not more) as the Work. While Sherlock was gone those two years, during one of the bad nights, Lestrade had forced John to go for a pint with him to talk. After a few beers, John spilled his feelings about Sherlock and how he was in love with him and that it was too late. He never got the chance to tell him and that even if John confessed those feelings, however, he felt that Sherlock probably didn’t feel the same in return. 

It was clear to Lestrade (and almost everyone else) that the two loved each other more than everything, but never found the courage to tell one another - they were both idiots. 

Lestrade grasped Mrs. H's shoulder, gave her a knowing squeeze and he and Mycroft started up the 17 steps to the flat. 

*******

**3 days ago - Sunday Evening**

John trotted down the steps from his bedroom, pulling on a fresh jumper. 

"I'm off to Tesco, need anything?" he called out into the living room. 

As John adjusted the jumper and pulled out the collar of this button-up around it, he saw his flatmate in his chair by the fireplace in his signature thinking pose. 

"Sherlock?" John pressed in a slightly louder tone. 

"Mmm?" Sherlock blinked and looked up at him. 

John stopped as he met his gaze. God, even after years with this man (including the 2 he was gone) he could still make him freeze like a deer in headlights be a simple gaze. 

It was his eyes, the colour of a storm. Grey, blue and green all mixed into his beautiful, striking iris'. John took a breath and pulled himself back together as Sherlock arched his eyebrow in confusion. 

"Tesco" he coughed, trying to play it off like he hadn't been lost in his totally platonic flatmate's eyes. 

Sherlock smiled " No thank you, John, I'll be in my Mind Palace for quite some time, probably a few days I imagine". 

"Why so long?" John wondered, "Is this like an inventory thing, you have to move some things around and delete some older information to make room for new" 

Sherlock remarked to him with fondness. 

"Yes. Exactly" he smiled again and this, in turn, made John grin up to his eyes. It wasn't very often that he got it right and Sherlock praised him like this. 

"Well, I'll be sure to tell Mrs. Hudson to leave out some food and tea for the next few days," John said while grabbing his coat and towing on his shoes. 

"Why can't you?" Sherlock asked while tilting his head. 

John laughed and replied, "Because I will be at the surgery for the next few days making up time from our last couple cases. I suppose you won't see me around the next few days as well". 

"You know you don't have to work at the awful boring practice John, we make enough money from our Work" Sherlock scoffed.

John noticed the phrasing there. “Our Work”. He smiled inwardly.

'I am well aware our coffers are healthy (especially from the last few private cases we did), but this is something I want, and something I need. Something to call my own and work at." John smiled. 

Sherlock was about to argue further, but John interrupted him by crossing the distance to Sherlock and bending down his eye level where he was seated. 

Close, very close. 

"Listen, you have your experiments, I have the surgery job" John explained and kept eye contact with Sherlock. 

A slight blush crept up Sherlock's cheeks and he looked away. 

"Yes, fine. Whatever." Sherlock muttered and waved his hand dismissing him.

John lent back up and made his way over to the flat's door. 

"I'll be back soon" he promised as he left. 

**Wednesday Evening**

Sherlock's ears pricked at the sound of his brother and Lestrade speaking with Mrs. Hudson downstairs. This pulled him out of his Mind Palace, blinking several times and getting up to stretch, careful not to knock over the myriad of teacups and half-eaten scones surrounding him in the middle of the living room. 

As he finished his stretching, both Mycroft and Lestrade entered the flat, the door unlocked.

Sherlock took one look at Lestrade and knew something was up, his eyes narrowed "What's wrong?" 

"Where's John?" demanded Lestrade. 

Sherlock looked to his brother, puzzled. 

"Surgery, he was catching up on a few shifts, said I wouldn't see him for a few days... but you wouldn't be here if he was...what's going on" Sherlock's voice getting stronger. 

"Missing it seems, brother mine" Mycroft strolled further into the flat. 

Missing? How could John be missing? Every terrible scenario now played in Sherlock’s mind. He remembered the horror of the pool, the bonfire… the well. He took a deep breath, thinking like didn’t help him find (his) John. 

"CCTV?" 

"Last saw him around the corner Sunday evening" 

"He was going to Tesco" 

"Never arrived, I'm afraid" 

"GPS?" 

"Phone smashed, found in the alleyway" 

"Leads?" 

"None" 

Sherlock brought his hands to his lips in thought. 

All three were silent. 

*ping* ...*ping*.... *ping* All three of their phones went off at the same time. 

As each of them removed their phone to see the message, it simply said: 

Not dead - JW

"John?" asked Lestrade to both Holmes brothers. 

Mycroft looked at the number. He hadn't seen this number in a very long time. He stayed quiet and looked at his brother, not giving anything away. 

*ping* on only Sherlock's phone 

Do you trust me? - JW 

Always - SH 

They waited 30 minutes, but no other texts came through. Lestrade made tea while the Holmes brothers sat in chairs opposite each other - Sherlock in his and Mycroft is John's - just staring at each other, having an inaudible argument. One that clearly Sherlock must have been winning due to his smile and regular eye rolls Mycroft was returning him.

It was at this point that Lestrade had to go home and get some rest, it seemed that John was at least "not dead" and that Sherlock didn't seem too worried about it - which was good enough for him, for now. 

Mycroft soon left as well, asking for Sherlock to keep him and Lestrade informed of any new developments. 

Sherlock merely sipped his tea and gave him a "Why should I? You're the one who lost him" look over the rim of his cup. 

Once they had both left, Sherlock was now alone in the flat. He took his phone and pressed it between both palms and brought them into his thinking pose. 

As if John wasn't already a mystery that surprised him at every turn, now this. He sat there for a few more hours to ponder the situation until a brief noise above him stirred him from his reverence. 

He looked at his phone, midnight. Another small noise above him. Anyone else would have brushed it off on the old pipes and building merely settling, but Sherlock knew. 

He got up from his chair and climbed the steps up to John's bedroom and knocked. 

No answer. 

He tried the door and slowly opened it. 

A figure in black was half in - half out the window of John's bedroom and they stopped when they saw Sherlock on the threshold of the room. 

"Where's John?" Sherlock asked quietly. 

Their face was covered in black fabric, hiding most of their features. As they turned to look at Sherlock, their eyes gleamed like that of a predator and he thought he saw traces of a scar over the right eye. 

They stared at each other for a beat and then suddenly the figure was gone. Sherlock stood bewildered. How could they have disappeared? Did he imagine them? A trick of the light? He rushed over to the window and looked out and saw...nothing. 

He closed the window, locked it, and then sat on John's bed feeling even more puzzled than he previously was. As he leaned back on the bed, his hands touched something...he turned...it was an envelope with his name on it. 

He took it in his hands and examined it closely. To his chagrin, there wasn't much to go on other than it was typical low-end stationary that could be bought anywhere in London. 

He opened the envelope and read the letter inside: 

_ Sherlock,  _

_ I'm sure you're both worried and curious. Worried about my whereabouts and well being and curious as to the why, how, and when am I coming home.  _

_ As to the former, obviously, I can't tell you where I am… _

"Obviously," Sherlock said to himself 

_...and as for my well being, it's as I said in the text "not dead" - although that statement may be considered controversial depending on the context.  _

_ I'll keep this short.  _

_ I needed to get away for a while to understand something that has happened to me.  _

_ It would be considered dangerous for me to be in the flat with you at this time as I don’t want to hurt you.  _

_ I'd ask you to not come looking for me, but I'm pretty sure you're going to ignore that and do it anyway. With that in mind, give me to the end of the month to get everything sorted before you barge down the door recklessly like you usually do.  _

_ Fair?  _

_ I miss you,  _

_ ~your John _

Sherlock read and re-read the letter over 5 times trying to glean everything he could. 

" _ your John, _ " he said softly into the darkness of the room, he smiled. 

He lay down on John's bed, his scent all around him, grounding him. He closed his eyes and went over the letter in his head, now committed to memory. He would give John space and time he needed without interfering. However, once the month was out Sherlock would be embarking on a case that was quickly turning out to be a solid "9". 

Perhaps even a "10" considering the subject in question. 

He smiled again and fell asleep in John's bed. 


	2. Chapter 2

**2 weeks later**

Sherlock woke up groggily from the couch he passed out on in the early hours of this morning.

He had spent that last couple of days with Lestrade working on a new and interesting case. 

3 victims all found dead in alleys near popular dance clubs. 

All 3 victims cause of death: exsanguination. 

Working on cases wasn't the same without John. 

He had spent all last night running through multiple alleyways on the trail of suspects. Occasionally with John talking to him in his head "stop at the corner, check to make sure it's clear before you run off again" "please don't get shot" "Call for backup". 

Sherlock had lost the suspect, however, and there were no more leads or victims. 

He had to wait. 

He hated waiting. 

Sherlock fished around the couch cushions to find his phone and texted the number that had been sent "not dead" to him 2 weeks ago. 

3 days remain before I find you - SH 

He smiled and pressed send and set the phone down on a nearby coffee table. He got up and stretched and went into the kitchen to make a cuppa. 

After tea had been made, he strolled to his desk and opened his laptop to check his emails. 

A *ping* was heard a few minutes later. 

Excitedly he shot up from his chair and grabbed his phone, unlocked it to see his messages. 

Not from John, but from Lestrade. 

Another victim, same as the ones before. 

Sherlock answered back

Morgue - afternoon - SH

He then texted Molly asking her to set-up all the victims in the morgue so he could take another look and that he would be by later in the day. 

"Whoo-hoo!" called into the flat followed by a knock. 

"Good morning Mrs. Hudson," he said with a smile. 

"What's gotten you in such a good mood, dear?" She smiled back carrying in some sandwiches and putting them on the kitchen table. 

"4 dead bodies. One of them fresh!" He said with enthusiasm. 

She shook her head. Only Sherlock would be happy about this. 

"Doesn't John come home in a few days?" she asked. 

Sherlock told Mrs. Hudson that John was at a Medical Retreat in America and would be away for a couple of weeks.

"Yes, I plan to fetch him in a few days to come home, whether he wants to or not. He's been gone far too long." His answer back almost sounded sad. 

Mrs. Hudson knew exactly what Sherlock was saying. 

"Too long indeed. Tell him not to be away that long again. I'm not young anymore you know, you need someone like John to take care of you. I'm not your housekeeper" she said bristling as she left the flat. 

Sherlock moved down the hall to have a quick shower and change before he met Lestrade and Molly at the morgue. 

Just before he left, however, he grabbed a sandwich and stuffed it in his mouth. If John was to come home soon and see that he hadn't been eating he would be mad. Mad John is fun, but only up to a point. Best keep on his good side so he doesn't disappear again. 

He put on his coat and scarf and left the flat to catch a cab. 

*******

Sherlock pushed open the morgue doors and saw both Molly and Lestrade waiting for him. 

"Show me," he said. 

Molly uncovered the 4 victims lying on their individual tables. 

"Alexia Beasley, 22, University student. Lauren Beard, 35, receptionist. Shane Fisher, 27, book store clerk. And Keith Simon, 31, drug dealer. Lauren Beard is the most recent." Molly points to her. "COD for all of them is exsanguination" she sighs. 

Sherlock inspects all 4 victims trying to put all the pieces together and then he sees it. 2 small pinpricks on the inner thigh of Laren Beard. He goes to the other 3 victims and sure enough, they also have the same marking. 

It is then when Lestrade interrupts with how the COD could be blood loss when there was no sign of blood at the scene. He muses that of course the killer could have drained them previously and left them there, but there were signs of struggle beforehand like the victim had enough energy (and blood) to try to fight off their attacker. 

Sherlock takes this to heart, not a bad observation, though he's sure John could have done better. 

"They are being drained of their blood in the alleyway while they are still alive," Sherlock says stepping back from the bodies and starting to pace. "But you would need a team to do this and/or a machine to pump all the blood out the body in the time frame needed. There are markings here..." he points to them on one of the bodies. 

"...on all 4 victims. But a machine like that wouldn't leave marks like these. These look almost like..." he trailed off. 

"Fangs?" Molly says matter-of-factly. 

They both turn to look at her and she starts to giggle. 

"What? I mean your killer is obviously a vampire" she says with a smile. 

They both continue to stare at her. 

"Molly? What did you just say" Sherlock blinks at her. 

She giggles again and then stops to see that Lestrade and Sherlock are giving her a serious look. 

"Oh...it was just a joke.. really. I didn't mean anything by it... I just..." she looks down at her clipboard and her face blushes bright red. 

Sherlock turns to Lestrade. 

"You can't be serious Sherlock" Lestrade teases him. "Last time I checked, vampires aren't real," he said with a sigh. 

Sherlock looks back and forth at the two of them, turns his coat collar up, and makes his exit out the morgue doors. 

On his way back home to Baker Street, he stops by a few of his homeless network contacts for updates and sends a few messages. 

He tells them to inform him of anyone asking for blood payment for drugs or favours.

He is informed by one of them that some of the contacts have gone out of the city recently. Saying that something was coming out at night and it spooked them. When Sherlock pressed for more information they said it was their eyes, they reflected light the same way an animal would. 

When he gets back to Baker Street the sun is already setting for the day so he orders takeaway.

By the time night time arrives, so does his Thai food and he eats despite being on a case. He knows John would want him to. 

No answer from the text earlier today from him. 

He tries again. 

Something to get his attention. 

4 victims, COD all exsanguinated - SH

He brings his hands together in his thinking pose and closes his eyes. It's not long until he gets an answer. 

*ping* 

Sherlock unlocks the phone. 

Dinner? - JW

Sherlock's eyes go wide, but she smiles nonetheless. This could mean several things. Was this a question to him or an offering of information as to how they died? 

He decides to side-step that answer for now. 

Your assistance would be invaluable - SH

*ping* 

Roof - JW

Sherlock scrambles from the couch and grabs his coat and scarf and makes his way to the roof. It's cold tonight, so when he reaches the top he pulls his coat close to his body and turns up his collar against the wind. 

He searches around but finds nothing. 

So he stands still and listens. 

He can hear the night time symphony of London. Cars, sirens, the occasional drunken shouting, and then he hears it; soft "whump" behind him. He goes to turn but hands hold him on either side from behind to stop him. 

He takes a breath and shivers. 

"John?" he tries. 

The hands on his arms squeeze in reassurance. 

"Hey," says a soft voice behind him. 

Sherlock immediately releases the tension in his body and leans back a little into his flatmate behind him. 

John pulls Sherlock into him, his face nuzzling into his back as his arms wrap around Sherlock holding him there. 

Sherlock smiles and brings his hands to his. 

They stay like that for a while, Sherlock starts to shiver. 

"You should go back inside," John whispers. 

"Will you not be joining me? Sherlock answers back softly.

John gently squeezes him. "I'm not sure I should. I...I'm still..." 

Sherlock cuts him off and simply says "Always" and clasps John's hand and brings it close to his heart. 

Sherlock can feel John nod into his back and he slowly releases his arms. Sherlock already missing the pressure that was surrounding him. 

"Before you turn around..." John says quickly "Please try to understand that this was not my choice and that I understand if this changes things between us" John quickly hangs his head and looks at his shoes as Sherlock turns around to look at him. 

"John, what could you possibly...." and he stops. 

Sherlock notices that gone are the tan lines - more like they were never there - John is paler than him. His hair was styled and now one colour. Instead of the blond, platinum, and grey that mingled throughout, it was now more of an ethereal silver. It shone in the night and would no doubt glow in the moonlight. 

His stance is different, his clothing... is an upgrade, to be honest, he's not wearing one of those hideous jumpers, but a black-on-black suit. 

John doesn't move his head to look up. 

Sherlock moves his hand to John's chin edging him to look up. 

John hesitates and whispers "I'm sorry" and lifts his head to meet Sherlock's eyes. 

******

**Sunday Evening (The night of John’s disappearance)**

John left the Baker Street flat on his way to Tesco - he took his normal route, after all the Tesco Express was just around the corner. 

However, when rounded the corner of Melcombe St. he heard a scuffle down the nearby alley of Siddons Lane. 

Looking down the alleyway he saw what appeared to be a woman in trouble and could hear her cries of "No, get off me!".

Shifting immediately into Captain Watson, he withdrew his gun (which he had a habit of keeping on him when going out ever since he met Sherlock) from his waistband and readied his aim while heading down the alleyway. 

The man was forcing himself on the woman up against the brick wall, she was struggling and appeared to be slowly losing consciousness. 

"Oi," John shouts. Not one of his more brilliant ideas. 

The man stops and releases the woman, without the support she slides down to the ground - shaking, but still alive. 

The man turns around and John is momentarily stunned by the eyes reflecting light back at him. 

Before he could finish a "What the fu..." the man launched at him, faster than should be possible, and a searing heat shot through his left forearm. 

The man was gone. All he heard was a burst of echoing laughter left behind him. His gun fell from his hand as the pain increased tenfold. 

He looked down to see 2 messy gashes across his arms. 

The pain was incredible. More painful than the gunshot into his shoulder. 

He fell to his knees and passed out. 

  
  


*****

**3 Days Later**

John woke to an unfamiliar setting. 

It was dark, but he could see perfectly. It must have been underground, because of the earthy smell. 

He felt odd like he no longer fit in his skin- he felt lighter and his clothes seemed to hang off of him more, his jaw hurt and his teeth ached. 

It was only after a few minutes that he realized he wasn't breathing - but that he was fine - fine being a relative term... He deliberately took in a breath and held it. Nothing. No pain from holding his breath, no fear that he would pass out. 

He checked his pulse and then started to panic. 

No pulse. 

He pushed himself up from a sleeping position and wiped his hand across his face. He was on a camping cot in the middle of a room. He saw a table and chairs with a mini-fridge nearby on one side of the room and on the other side, 2 huge bookcases filled with books. 

He noticed that his left forearm still dully burned and looked down. The 2 messy gash marks were still there, but they had healed into scars now. 

Confused, he trailed his fingers over the now raised and pink scars down his arm. 

"Oh good, you're awake" came a call from behind him. 

John turned and looked and saw a woman in a black shirt and blue jeans.

Her hair was bright red and she had a messy scar that ran from her the top of her right eye down to her jaw. Whatever happened to this woman also affected her eye. 

Her left eye was a dull red colour, strange enough as that was, but the right eye where the scar came down, that eye had a milky cloud look to it. 

Her smile was gentle and she approached slowly with her hands up where John could see them. 

"Who are you?" John called, he started to scootch away from her approach. "Where am I? What happened to me?" 

She stopped and sat down on the ground still with her hands up. 

"My name is Cereza..." she said calmly. "We are just outside of High Wycombe. You were bit by the man you were trying to stop and then passed out. I brought the woman to the nearest A&E and brought you here to recover." 

John just stared at her, not really understanding what was happening. 

"I...I don't understand.." he stammered. 

She made a move to get up and John scootched further back away from her. 

"Whoa! It's ok, I'm just going over the table over there" pointing to her right. 

John looked and saw a table with two chairs. Two tumbler glasses were on the top as well as his gun. 

As soon as John saw his gun, he stilled and looked at her. 

"Relax, I'm not going for your gun, I'm just going to pour you something to drink," she said softly. 

Upon hearing the word drink, he realized his mouth and throat felt dry as the desert, as well as his whole body, ached for sustenance. Not in the typical type of hungry he would usually get, but more of a feral hunger. 

She approached the table and poured the liquid into the two glass tumblers. 

When finished she crossed half the distance towards John and placed the glass on the ground and walked back to the table to sit down on one of the chairs. 

He watched her take a sip of the drink and slowly made his way to the glass she had offered. 

John picked up the glass and inspected the liquid inside. 

He took a sniff. 

The woman giggled.

It smelled wonderful and awful. 

"This is...." he started. 

"Blood. O-negative, in case you were wondering" she smiled. 

"You expect me to drink this?" he said holding the glass close to his lips. God, did he want to - but a small part of his brain refused. 

"Interesting," she said slowly moving her finger along the rim of her glass. 

"What...?" John stammered meeting her eyes. 

"Your body desperately wants you to drink it, but your brain is fighting the instinct. Well, this makes my job infinitely easier" she scoffed, narrowing her eyes in mock disappointment. 

John forced his body to put the glass down on the ground. 

"Why do I want to drink this?" John sighed, pushing the glass a little aways from him. 

She drank the rest of her glass and placed it on the table once more. 

"If it told you right out why then you wouldn't believe me. So, let's go over the facts so we can think out this logically. I'm sure that's what your man back in London would want, yes?" she smiled again. 

"You know who I am?" he seemed surprised. 

She laughed at his confusion. "Of course, it's not like your picture hasn't been in the paper, tabloids, or all over the internet. Sherlock Holmes and John Watson'' she mimed the headline of a newspaper raising her hand to eye level and moving left to right. 

She saw him look down and away as if embarrassed. She quirked a small smile and decided to leave that for another conversation. 

"So..." she proclaimed. "Let's unpack all of this shall we!" 

John continued to look away but listened. 

"You were attacked by a man and bitten..." pointing at his forearm “Sloppily, I might add and you passed out. You've been out of it for almost 3 days (it's Wednesday by the way)."

"You wake up in an unfamiliar setting with a woman you've never met before" 

"You notice that you don't breathe, or have a pulse" John shifts uncomfortably. 

"You've seen the colour of my eyes.. well the left one at least, let's be honest; they're both a bit creepy" she waits for him to look up at her and then stares intently at him, giggles a bit, and continues. 

"You have a glass of blood in front of you that seems like the most delicious beverage that you would ever drink" 

"Deduce it, Dr. Waston" she finishes. 

John arches his eyebrow at her. "You can't.... you can't be serious" exasperated his voice. 

She smiles and makes a gesture to the glass, meaning for him to drink it. 

He sighs and reaches for the glass again and brings it to his lips. He takes a sip. 

"....shit," he says in defeat and drinks the remainder of the glass. 

He sets the glass down and looks back up at her. 

"Why are you helping me?" John asks. "Good samaritan and all that?"

She rolls her eyes. 

"I wasn't exactly expecting to take care of someone new to our...condition that night, no''. She sighs, even though breath at this point is meaningless. "But while I was out and about that night I saw the whole thing go down and I couldn't just leave you there. I saw your arm, knew what happened to you, brought you back here." 

She bent a little, putting her elbows on her knees and perching her head on her hands. "Think of it as paying it forward. I had help from a good samaritan, as you said when it happened to me. Seemed it was the right thing to do'' she smiled. 

They were both quiet for a time. 

"For what it's worth..." John started "Thank you," he said earnestly. 

"You're welcome," she replied quietly. 

"....what now?" John asked. 

She perked up. "Ah, the million-dollar question! Your way of life has now been irrevocably changed, Dr. Watson. In fact, one might say, that you died (you know with the not breathing and the no pulse) 3 days ago. As far as I'm concerned, you can do whatever you want now" She held out her hands wide. 

John looked at her and then cast his glance down in sadness. 

"I want to go home" sounded very small. 

"OK," she said. 

He looked up immediately. "Ok?" he responded. 

"OK" she confirmed. 

John gave her a puzzled look. 

"Dr. Watson, you are not my prisoner, you are my patient and my guest (for what it worth). If you want to go back to your man in London, I will not stop you. However, I will caution you. This transition to what was, to now what is, usually takes some time. In fact, I blocked off a whole month for this to make sure you were going to be ok. But it seems that your willpower when it comes to blood is higher than I've ever seen in someone so new" 

"So, if you are amenable, I would like you to stay here for the next 2 weeks or so, so I can teach and show you the way things now are". 

John thought about it and then finally asked. 

"Can I at least let them know I'm...alive? He asked. 

She smiled and took out her phone and asked for the numbers to send a quick text to. She noticed a familiar one and inwardly snooted her nose at it. 

Not dead - JW 

"Short and sweet, I like it - sent" 

"Can you send one more to just Sherlock's?” sounding small and sincere. 

Please send: Do you trust me - JW 

She smiled "Sent". 

Immediately *ping*

She looked at John and turned the phone so he could see the reply. 

She saw the immediate relief on his face. 

"Why don't you write a letter saying that you'll be back in 2 weeks or something so no one comes looking for you. I have a feeling your man would walk through hell and back if he thought you were kidnapped or something" She strode over to a desk and grabbed some paper and pen for him. 

"Too right" he responded. 

"Finish the letter and I'll go deliver it..." John went to interrupt her "...discretely" she finished giving him an eyebrow raise that said, "no, you're not coming with me". 

"What will I do while you're gone?" he said as he quickly jotted down the letter. 

"You..." she walked over to a bookcase and took a few off the shelf "Will be reading..." 

"Reading?" he looked up and saw the mountain of books she selected for him 

"...and drinking. You need to get used to the idea of drinking now. I already know you have the willpower to abstain or at least not gorge yourself on blood. So drink when you're hungry and read. I'll only be gone less than an hour". 

"Less than...you're going to go from High Wycombe to London and back, in less than an hour?" 

"Well, when you say it like that, it sounds... impressive," she smiled. 

"How...?" he started but quickly saw how fast she had moved across the room to be sitting right by him. 

"Now, that seemed fast to YOU. Imagine how fast it would seem to your regular person" she waved her hand nonchalantly. 

"We're fast?" he questioned. 

"Mhmm, very fast" and she handed him the first book. 

He looked down at the nondescript tome. 

"Think of this book as a "How to be a vampire for dummies" 

"You're kidding?" he laughed and then briefly panicked that the fanged elephant in the room had finally said - the "v" word. 

"Nope, it will explain all the basic stuff. Diet, mobility, eyesight - you probably didn't even notice that you read what was on my phone screen clear as day..and you were 20 feet away" 

John blinked several times in surprise. "Oh" 

She smiled and squeezed his shoulder 'You'll get the hang of it. The rest of the books are just supplemental. Dos and Don'ts, history and anecdotes over the centuries. You can do this Dr. Watson. It may not be the life you chose, but it can still be a life worth living. Now, finish your letter so I can get going" getting up and leaving the room. 

John did just that and wrote Sherlock's name on the front of the envelope. 

"All done?" she called, coming back in now dressed all in black with a scarf wrapped around her head, with only her eyes showing. 

"Are you fighting ninja's tonight as well?" he joked. 

"Ah, yes my...disguise. Well now that you know my secret identity Dr. Watson, it's true; I'm Batman" she said in a gravelly voice. 

John snorted and she giggled in reply. 

"I just don't like to be recognized, sometimes it's a little hard because of the creepy eyes..." 

"...they aren't creepy," John interrupted. 

She smiled "Thank you". "Anyway, start reading and while I'm out I'll get us some more food" she turned and started to walk out of the room. 

"...food, right" he trailed off. 

"Yes, John! Food, as in blood- get used to it" she called as she left. 

She closed the door behind her and John was left alone in an unknown room somewhere near High Wycombe "....fuck". 

********

True to her word, she returned within the hour with a pleased smile on her face a satchel full of blood bags she informed John, nicked from the nearest hospital. 

"As a doctor and regular contract employee of the London Met, I can't say I approve of this theft...." John approached her holding the book she had left him with. 

"...but...?" she answered as she withdrew the bags and put them in a nearby mini-fridge. 

John sighed "...when needs; must, I suppose... I haven't gotten to the chapter on food procurement yet" he turned and sat at the table. 

Did you eat some more?" she asked. John just shook his head. 

She sighed and poured him another glass. 

"Don't worry, I don't make a habit of doing this. Just this week, while you read and understand. Next week we'll be applying what you've learned out in the field".

"You mean I'll be....uh...hunting... I guess?" He looked disgusted with himself while staring at the offered glass. 

She also flinched at the term. "While technically correct, I call it "going out for dinner". You'll read up on it I'm sure, but the Coles notes are that you will learn to eat without killing anyone". 

John's head fell on the table with a "thunk".

"Jesus" he whispered. 

She joined him at the table. "Trust me when I say you'll be better than most, you've already proven your disgust and willpower for what you'll be doing, so being able to stop when having a meal will take little to no practice. As a doctor, you know all the warning signs the human body will give off if you take too much, and finally, it's clear your empathy for others will make it almost impossible for you to drain someone". 

"Do some of ...us.. do that? Kill when...going out for dinner?" he asked, not raising his head from the table. 

"Yes, some do. I don't fraternize with them. It's as if they lost their souls and no longer care about life" sounding both furious and sad. 

"What about... oh.. what did that stupid teen movie call it....oh... being "vegetarian" and only eating animals?" John knew he sounded stupid. 

Silence and then almost gasping sound. 

He finally raised his to see her silently laughing, the kind when you're laughing so hard, no sound comes out. Finally, a full giggle came out. 

"Oh, Gawd, I'm crying... or at least I would if my tear ducts still worked," she said behind laughs. 

After finally composing herself, she looked back at him. 

"You are welcome to try going out for dinner with a... cow if you like" she began with a grin "But you'll find it the MOST disgusting thing you've ever tasted, nor will it satisfy your hunger. I mean if you are REALLY desperate and need something to not, I don't know, wither away, I suppose you could try it. I think there was a story in one of the books of a guy living for 20 years just on rats. Whether or not those 20 years were WORTH living..." she shrugs 

"So, it's....possible, to not go out for dinner... in the traditional sense and still... "live"?" John tested. 

She peered at him, in askance if he was being serious "I don't know any of our kind who has willingly chosen that path for themselves. So to answer your question; I guess? Technically? Maybe?" she shrugs and makes a disgusted face.

He frowns and replies "....I'll keep that in mind. He took the glass and drained it.

"God, I feel exhausted" bringing his hands to face. 

"I suggest getting some sleep while you still can" she reaches and squeezes his good shoulder. 

"While I still can?...don't tell me..." he mumbled through his hands 

"Yeah, after today, you won't sleep anymore, your body won't need to" she took his glass and went to pour herself some. 

"..Great"

"That man of yours is quite handsome," she said knowing that would get his attention. 

"You saw him? Is he ok" he pressed 

"Perfectly fine. He saw me sneaking out the top bedroom window. He asked where you were, but I said nothing and "poofed" out of there". 

"Poofed?" 

"Went so fast he didn't register the movement - "poof and I'm gone" gesturing her hands like a lame magic trick. 

John just shook his head. 

"Go rest," she said between sips. 

"What are you going to do?" he asked 

"Change up my schedule. Being that I no longer need a whole month to teach you, I'll have to move a few things around. Not to mention I'll need to get you some new clothes as well" she said knocking back the rest of the liquid and taking her phone out. 

He arched his eyebrow at her. 

"Relax, I won't put you in a high collar cape or anything" she made a stereotypical vampire face bringing her hands up like claws and hissing. 

If it weren't for the actual real fangs sticking out of her mouth, he would have laughed, instead, he just rolled his eyes and went back to the cot he woke up on earlier that day and closed his eyes, and slept for his last time. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Friday Evening (5 days after John’s disappearance)**

John woke up 2 days later, although he had no reference of time now. Time itself was now meaningless, being what he was. 

He stretched as he got up from his cot, seeing there was a large glass of blood waiting for him on the table. 

He walked up to it thinking "This is really my life now..." and took a few sips. It tasted great and awful and delicious. 

He grabbed his book and walked over to the wall by the bookcases and slid down and started reading, taking sips of his drink between page flips. 

When finished one book, he moved onto the next, committing to memory the best he could with all the knowledge they had to offer. 

Halfway through his stack of books, he heard Cereza open the door and fiddle in the kitchen area of the dwelling and then joined him, refilling his glass and asking if he had any questions thus far. 

"Where have you been?" he asked first. 

"Mmm... clearly the most important question" she teased. "I was out picking up some clothes for you, I put them over on the table for you" gesturing vaguely in the direction. 

He put the book down and looked at her. "Thank you.... for... everything..." and gave her a weak smile. 

"My pleasure" she answered in kind. "You are by far, the easiest, funniest, and respectful new vamp I have taught in a VERY long time". 

"Oh, you do this often do you?" he teased back. 

"A couple of times, sure - mostly out of pity" she smiled. 

"Oi! be nice" he retorted.

"I AM nice! ...but for real..." she said, nudging his shoulder "What questions do you have?" 

"The books weren't entirely clear about the sunlight thing...the only conclusion that I can glean from it is it's best not to go out in the daytime," he said frustrated. 

"Mmm! Yeah. Sunlight won't make you burst into flames or anything. It'll sting because your eyes are built for the night and your skin is so pale you'll get a wicked sunburn.

Also if you haven't already put it together, your eyes are now red in colour like mine - err, the left one.." she made a face pointed to her left eye "People tend to be unnerved by uncommon eye colours. Contact lenses will be a staple for you once you leave here - I typically don’t like to wear them, I know what my eyes look like and how they make people feel, so I only indulge in that when I’m either teaching or need to meet with someone who doesn’t know about our kind."

"Right... ok... don't go out in the daytime if I can help it...only night shifts at the surg..." and he stopped himself. 

"What? What is it?" she asked 

"I can't be a doctor anymore.... can I?" he said defeatedly. 

She frowned. "Of course you can! Just, you know, not right now. When you can handle blood spurting out a person and not want to eat them, then of course you can still be a doctor! Just like everything else, you just need to adjust and adapt"

"You make it sound so easy," she said quietly. 

"It can be. As long as you study and practice. You can do almost the exact same thing you've always done before this happened. You just need time, which you actually have a lot of now, so that helps too". 

"Time huh?" he thought. 

Cereza was expecting this. "Here we go..." she said mentally. 

"How long did it... did it take you...wait...." John stopped. "How old are you?" 

"There it is," she said inside her head. 

She quirked a smile at him.

"247" John's eyebrows reached the top of his head "And it took me 3 months to get to where you are now... just you know, sipping blood like a cuppa" she teased. 

"You...." he started

"I what?" she interrupted.

"You.... you don't look a day older than 105," he said stifling a giggle. 

"So gentlemanly of you Dr. Watson, thank you" she returned his smile. "Alright what else you got?" 

"We don't age, but we're not immortal right?" She nods. "It didn't say anything about how to kill one of us" 

"Mmm... well, I've never killed anyone of our kind but one would assume that either we starve and turn to dust or decapitation"

"So no silver, no wooden stakes then?" he asked 

"Don't mistake being immortal with not feeling pain. If someone stabs you in the heart with a wooden stake, it's gonna hurt. If some shoots you in the head with a silver bullet, it's gonna fucking hurt. 

But are you necessarily going to "die" from it, probably not? You'll definitely need some sort of blood source nearby if that happens so no lasting damage is made, but no you will not "die". Anything else?” she prompted. 

“Ummm, If I ..take someone out to dinner...how do I not turn them into one of us?” John asked. 

“There’s a difference between dinner and turning. You’ll feel it in your fangs” She opened her mouth wide to show off her teeth. “It works similar to a snake, I suppose. The venom comes out of the two sharp canines here” pointing “but only if you truly mean to turn someone then will the venom come out. So for your normal dinners, you have nothing to worry about” she waved her hands in the air to dismiss. 

John looked down and thought about it for a moment. She saw this and knew where his line of thought was going, so she continued; “...so… if perhaps a gentleman, who happened to be from London and who happened to also be your handsome flatmate… offered to… go out for dinner…” 

John looked up at her horrified.

She saw this and raised her hands in surrender “I'm just saying, you’d have nothing to worry about”. 

John scoffed in disgust, “Knowing him, he’d probably want me to turn him” he said without thinking and immediately covered his mouth too late. 

She looked at him in earnest. “That my dear doctor is a decision entirely up to you”. She got up and went to the table and called him over. “Come check out the clothes I picked up for you. Look them over and let me know if you need anything else.” 

John finished his drink in one big gulp and joined her at the table. 

She unpacked the many bags, filled with mostly suits, all of the black. Black shoes, socks, pants, jackets. “I’m noticing a pattern here…” he looked at her out of the corner of his eye. “I am only required to wear one colour now?” he mused. 

“What? Oh, this was just easier” she said “Black goes with everything, even black. It's slimming, it's sexy..” she wiggles her eyebrows at him and he laughs “...and I'm sure your man will find it quite appealing as well” she smiled. 

“You keep calling him “my man”, but we’re just flatmates and best friends you know. We haven’t… he doesn’t feel…” he trailed off. 

At this, she got right up in his face and looked him right in the eyes. 

“You literally signed your letter to him “your John”... you’re an idiot” she stated, “And he would be an idiot if he doesn’t lose his mind when he sees you in these outfits.” John’s face tinted with a slight pink. 

“Oh good, you can still blush. You must have enough blood in your system now” she teased now leaning back and turning back to unpack the remainder of the clothes. 

John sighed. 

Everyone thought Sherlock and him were together like “that”. They had been through a lot these past few years and hurt each other more than any other person could have withstood. They were best friends and they cared for each other. Sherlock had only ever seen John with the girlfriend of the month and never with any men before. What Sherlock didn’t know is that there were a few in his years in the army and one in University. When he stated that he “wasn’t gay”, technically was correct, he was “bisexual”. The best lies have a hint of truth in them, right? 

He never saw Sherlock as being interested in anything romantic anyway, for all John knew, Sherlock was asexual and not interested in anyone. What they had right now, or at least before all this happened, was good. They were good. Occasionally John would flirt and there had been an increase in passing touches. 

Did he love Sherlock, he asked himself? “Yes” came back the answer right away. But did Sherlock love him in return? He didn’t know. Maybe before all this happened...he no longer knew where they stood with each other now that John was… was… this now. 

John finished going through his new wardrobe and tried on one of the suits. It fit perfectly. 

As he finished doing up the button of the cuffs on his shirt and slid on the suit jacket. 

He heard Cereza fiddling with something behind one of the bookcases. 

“What are you doing back there?” he called.

“Well..” grunt “Normally, I don’t allow new vamps to see their reflection in the first week. It kind of freaks them out when they see how their body has changed”. She struggled a bit more and finally dislodged the full-length mirror from behind the bookcase. 

“And you think I can handle it?” he stated. 

“Yes, but let’s get your expectations in order first” She leaned the mirror up against the bookcase now with the reflected side facing away. 

“Your skin tone, body type, eyes, and hair have changed,” she listed. 

John narrowed his eyes “I can see the skin tone, felt a little lighter when I woke up (“Jesus I must have lost a whole stone” he thought) you told me about my eyes…” he arched an eyebrow. 

“Remember how you had blond hair...err… mostly blond hair” 

“If you’re referring to the grey hairs I had, haha, yes I'm old” He looked at her and noticed that she had a mischievous grin. 

“Oh Gawd..” he brought his hands to his head. 

“It’s fine, Dr. Watson, you look good! I promise.” she quickly said. 

John undid the button of his suit jacket and ran his hands through his hair exasperated. 

“Alright, let’s see it then” gesturing his hand to the mirror. 

She giggled and smiled and turned the mirror around. 

John took a breath and looked at his reflection and was stunned. 

Cereza broke out into laughter but he didn’t hear her. 

Nothing. He saw nothing in his reflection, it's as if he didn’t exist, which spun him into a mini existential crisis. She could see he was starting a spiral and ran up to grasping both of his arms and telling him to (ironically) breathe. 

“Calm down Dr. Watson, it was just a joke! You’ll get your reflection back after your first dinner” she explained quickly. 

He looked into her eyes with as much fury as he could muster. His hands clenching and unclenching at his side trying to hold back. He has never hit a woman in his life, but he was definitely weighing his options after this dirty trick. 

“That is NOT funny” he seethed. “I have been pretty accepting of things insofar that I haven’t really freaked out or have had a complete mental breakdown (at least outwardly). How dare you!” he yelled. 

“Whoa! Ok, alright. I’m sorry. I’ll admit that may have been a little cruel. I’m...sorry, Dr. Watson. I was assuming you read that chapter in your book already I suppose.” releasing his arms and stepping back and away. 

“Please leave me alone,” he said quietly and turned and went back to sit on his cot. 

“Oh...Ok, I’ll just give you some space then…” as she watched him walk away. She grabbed the packing from all the clothes and left out the door. 

Once he heard her leave, he couldn’t hold it anymore. A sob wracked through his body, but no tears were shed. He missed Baker Street, he missed his job and he missed most of all Sherlock. This was one of the hardest things he’s had to do on his own. His life had changed in every way and he wasn't even sure that Sherlock would accept him when he eventually returned. 

“Should he return?” he quickly thought. Wouldn’t this new aspect of himself just hinder Sherlock and The Work? He quickly dashed those thoughts away. Sherlock would most likely want to experiment on him, which made him smile and then blush.

“Jesus” he exclaimed in frustration and wiped his hands down his face. 

*****

A few days later John and Cereza were back on speaking terms. He drank what she gave him and she provided him his space to finish reading all the books.

When he’d finish the last book, he got up and stretched and looked over at the table where she was sitting scrolling through her phone. 

“All done?” she called. 

“Uh, yeah. I think that was the last of them” he nodded to the mountain of books by his cot. 

“Good” she smiled. “How about some fresh air?” she got up and opened the door gesturing for both of them to leave. 

He hesitated. He’d been in this room for a week now. Not even having the inclination to leave. He grabbed his suit jacket off the back of one of the kitchen chairs and by habit, checked the keys, wallet, and phone he didn’t have and then frowned. 

She saw this and smiled, handing over the keys and wallet. “Sorry, the phone didn’t make it. I had to smash it or else the GPS wouldn’t have told whoever was looking for you to look here. We’ll get you a new phone soon”. 

“Thanks,” he said. 

“Shall we?” and she ushered him out the door and into the night. 

As John stepped out into the night, he quickly saw that they were in the middle of a forest. They had just come out of what looked to be a makeshift Hobbit style cottage. 

“Where are we?” he said, taking in the smell of the night. Above the moon shone dimly behind the clouds but he could see everything in detail in the forest. He remembered that if he was still his old self, he was sure everything would have been pitch black and unable to see the nose in front of him

“Just a small forest about 5 minutes south of the M40, nothing special. But it is quiet and usually no one comes snooping”. She stretched with her arms up to the sky. 

“Usually?” he turned, arching his eyebrow. 

She smiled. “Sometimes the British Government likes to stick their stupid noses into other people's business. And quite frankly, I find it rude” She turned her nose up in defiance. 

“The British Government is it?” he probed. “As in the whole? Or a person that occupies a minor position within?” He crossed his arms in askance. 

She smiled and winked at him and started off into the forest. 

“A test,” she said simply. 

“Tag” she tapped his shoulder “You’re it” and she ran off. 

“Wait...what..? He asked as he saw her take off as fast as a bullet. 

He took a breath and listened. He could both still smell and hear her in the distance and then took off to chase after her. Using his new heightened senses, he caught her trail and followed.

After running through a few fields, he finally spotted her petting a cow in the nearby farm. 

As he ran up to her and tapped her on the shoulder, she started to giggle. “Well done, you’re quite fast right now, but you’ll get faster with age”. 

She continued to pet the cow and it licked her hand in affection. 

“Since you were so interested in taking a nontraditional take on dinner, I thought you might want to know what you're getting yourself into” gesturing to the cow. “This is also good practice before you try it out on the real thing. I don’t think Betsy here will mind too much, she was going to be killed for food anyway. At least you won't be killing her for a meal though”. 

John panicked a little, was he really ready for this? I meant this was just a cow… that he was going to bite...and drink its blood. A totally natural thing… right?

“Right,” he said slowly, “Can you… show me, I don't know, technique?” he laughed nervously, bringing his hand up to the back of his neck. 

“Of course,” she said as if it was a normal question to ask. She held out her hand to him and as he grasped it, she pulled him up to the side of the cow. 

“Ok, here you will learn how your teeth feel when you bite. Now, the cow is going to be a little bit tougher than your average person, but the purpose of this lesson is to make a clean bite. You’ve seen what a sloppy one looks like..” pointing to his forearm “When you are with a willing participant it is considered good manners to not leave much of a mark”. 

She leaned down to the cow and opened her mouth as John watched in both rapture and a bit of disgust. He could see her two canines extend, ready to bite. She did it slowly so he could see how the bite was done. Once both fangs were in she proceeded to suck out the blood. When she had, what appeared to be a mouthful, she unlatched from the cow and spit out the blood onto the ground, and shivered. 

“Ugh” she stuck out her tongue and mocked a retching noise and movement. “Alright cowboy, you’re turn” pointing to Betsy who seemed entirely nonplussed about the whole situation. 

John patted the cow, saying a silent “I’m sorry about this whole situation” and leaned closer. He couldn’t believe he was doing this. He opened his mouth and bit down just as he had seen her do it. He didn’t suck any blood right away; he just wanted to take a moment to really feel what was going on. There was a little bit of tension when breaking through the skin, he imagined that drinking from a person, the tension would be paper-thin and he would have to be mindful to be as gentle as possible. When he did pull some blood into his mouth from the bite he backed away immediately and coughed. 

She giggled and simply said, “I told you so”.

He wiped his mouth with his hand “That! Was disgusting”. 

She walked up to Betsy and looked at the mark he had left behind. “Mmm.. good first try. “I want you to bite her 3 more times. Be mindful of how your teeth are sinking in, the pressure. Remember you want to leave as little trace as possible.” 

John looked at her and then to Betsy who just kept on grazing and living her best cow life. 

He rolled his eyes and approached the cow once more. 

By his third bite, she was happy with his progress. 

“Ok, ready to try it on something a little more human?” she asked.

“Umm, what did you have in mind?” he asked. 

“Me,” she said like it was obvious. 

“You... What? You want me to bite you? Why?" he stammered. 

“Because I don’t want you to either be scared the first time you do it or screw it up” as she narrowed her eyes.” C’mon” she took his hand and brought him in close to her body “Look into my eyes”.

John looked up and stared at her. He felt his cheeks warm. She noticed and giggled “I’m flattered Dr. Watson, but I know your heart belongs to someone else. This is only a lesson, not a come-on, I promise”. 

Despite her assurances, she wrapped his hands around her waist and settled her arms around his shoulders. 

“I’ll ask you not to take any of my blood, thank you. We both still need to have dinner after this” she said craning her neck to give him better access. “In your own time,” she said quietly. 

After a moment of nothing happened, She sighed and looked down. John was just staring at her neck, eyes wide like a deer caught in headlights. “Alright, new strategy. Would it help if you thought I was someone else?” she asked. 

John blinked a few times and then met her gaze “What do you mean?” 

She looked at him in a way that said “Are you kidding me?” 

“John… I don't care what mental hoops you need to jump through in order to do this, but I promise after you do this a few times it will be as easy as riding a bike” she craned her neck away again. 

“Right” he confirmed. 

He closed his eyes and leaned closer and pressed his lips to her neck. He opened his mouth slightly and just rested his teeth there. Taking a breath he didn’t need, he gently punctured the skin with his teeth and sank down to the root. 

He felt her relax in their embrace “Well done John, that was perfect” she whispered. He opened his eyes and slowly retreated from her neck, blushing once more. 

“Can you...I mean... I want to know what I’m doing to people..” 

She interrupted him and took his face in her hand and turned him to the side. 

She leaned into his neck, giving him a quick kiss, and then bit down. 

An involuntary small “ah” came from John and he hugged her close to him. 

It was an intimate moment between the two of them. Teacher and student. John knew that he would have been lost without her help and he was grateful for her patience and guidance, even if she took some jokes a little too far. 

When she leaned back, releasing his neck to look him in the eyes, and then pressed her forehead to his. 

“See, we’re not the monsters in the shadows or the disgusting dregs of society. We can be as gentle as we want to be. Just like everyone else.” 

“Thank you,” he said, and he meant it.

A wolf whistle came from behind them from the nearby barn. 

She straightened her back and released John from their embrace. 

“Ah our dinner has just arrived,” she said looking over to where the sound came from. 

“Dinner?” John asked. 

She smiled and took his hand and started walking them over to the barn. 

There was a man, plainly dressed in his mid-thirties; wearing a cowboy hat and red flannel shirt.

When they made their way over to him (at normal speed) he tipped his hat and greeted them “Evening”. 

“Good evening” she replied. John nodded to him to be polite. 

“John, this is Carter. His family has been working with me for decades now.” 

John stilled, putting the pieces together in his head, and then looked at her and then to him “Right” he said in acknowledgment. 

“So this is your new one huh? Little older than your regulars ain’t he?” he drawled sizing John up. 

She rolled her eyes. “I assure you it was a matter of the right place, right time. Besides, this one has a genuinely good heart, a doctor, and a soldier. Carter, may I present to you...Dr. John Watson” she gestured to John with both arms like she was showing off a prized poodle.

He narrowed his eyebrows and said “Dr. Watson...as in Holmes and Watson from London?” 

“The very same!” she exclaimed and smiled brightly. John shuffled his feet a bit and looked away embarrassed. 

“...huh!” he replied almost speechless. “Well...I’m sorry this happened to you Dr. Watson, but as it has, you couldn’t have hoped for a better teacher than Ms. C here” He smiled sadly. 

“Thank... Thank you, Carter” he said quietly. 

She cleared her throat. “Well, now that introductions are over and done with let’s get to the matter at hand.” John looked at her confused but noticed that Carter was removing his hat and undoing the top buttons of his red flannel shirt. 

“Oh no,” he thought to himself, “This is really happening”. 

She turned to John and saw the panic in his eyes and leaned in to whisper. “I’ve had an arrangement with his family for a long time. I make sure the coyotes and wolves don’t bother his livestock and in return, I get a free dinner for myself and a guest from time to time” she leaned back and winked at him. 

John gulped audibly. 

Carter looked over at John and saw the panic. He smiled and walked up to him and put his hands on John’s shoulders. John stilled and looked up at him. 

“Dr. Watson, relax. I am of sound mind and body and am doing this of my own volition” He leaned in closer to him “This ain’t my first rodeo”. 

“Was that supposed to be a cowboy joke?” she mocked. 

He laughed “Sorry, I have a soft spot for puns”. 

She rolled her eyes. “Alright John, you’re going to do the same thing you did with me a few minutes ago, only this time you're going to suck out some blood.” 

“How… how much?” he asked, now staring at Carter’s neck. He could hear his heartbeat and see the pulse in his neck. It was as if the blood was actually calling out to him. 

“Just a mouthful please, and then I’ll do the same” she patted his shoulder. 

John moved his gaze to Carter and then back to his neck and leaned closer. John brought his left hand and placed it on the shoulder of Carter and his right up to hold the side of his neck. He moved his lips close and touched it to his pulse; his mouth started to water. 

Carter wrapped his arms around John and whispered “It's ok Dr. Watson. You won't hurt me”. 

With that, John closed his eyes, punctured the skin and took one big gulp, swallowed, and then stayed there.

“John, you can let go now,” she said squeezing his shoulder. 

John’s eyes opened and he let go and walked away whispering “I’m sorry...and...thank you”. 

She watched him go back to the field to pet Betsy. 

“That was… different?” Carter said, confused. “Usually you have to literally yank them off.” 

“Indeed” she confirmed watching John. “He is a strange and gentle creature, yet has the ability and know-how to kill efficiently… and that was before he was a vampire.” 

“Mr. Holmes is a lucky man” Carter giggled. 

“I CAN HEAR YOU, YOU KNOW?!” shouted John from the field. 

They looked at each other and laughed. She jumped into Carter’s arms and started to kiss his neck.

“Mmm… that's more like it,” Carter said breathlessly. “Go on, I know you’re hungry,” he said between gasps. She pulled back and smiled at him “Thank you” gently bit the other side of his neck and took her fill. When she finished, he looked a little dazed but otherwise fine. 

She licked her lips and buttoned his shirt back up “Pleasure doing business with you as always Carter” and gave him a quick peck on the lips. 

“John, time to go” she called him over and he was at her side in an instant. 

“Are you alright?” she asked softly as they walked through the fields back to the forest. 

He nodded, not really wanting to talk. 

“You’re thinking about Sherlock, aren’t you?” She prompted. 

When he didn’t answer the question she took his hand, squeezed it in reassurance, and held it for the rest of the journey back to the cottage. 

As they approached the cottage, his ears heard something to his right and he stopped.

“What is that?” he asked quickly. 

“Ah, our guests for this evening,” she said and whistled. 

Shadows ran from tree to tree and John got the uneasy feeling that they were surrounded. Without thinking, he went into Captain Watson mode and went to shield her from whatever was coming. 

‘Who's there?” John demanded. 


	4. Chapter 4

“Hello” came a small voice. It was a woman in her early 20s along with 2 others of similar age. Behind them, a man stood, a little younger than John. 

“John…” Cereza began “These are my previous guests...patients...whatever.” She pointed to them individually, “Jane” pointing to the one who spoke. “Winnifred and Blake” referring to the other two women “..and finally Sebastian”. The man stepped closer but was avoiding eye contact. 

“..Seb” John’s stance relaxing a bit “...is that you?” 

The man’s eyes shot up to John’s with a look of surprise. 

“John?!” the man exclaimed. 

John smiled and the man raced towards and embraced him in a big bear hug. 

“Seb!” he hugged back. 

“Oh my god, it's been ages...not since Kandahar right?” Seb said in a breathless whisper. 

“You have no idea how glad I am to see you” John hugged tighter. 

Someone cleared their throat and they reluctantly separated. 

John looked to Cereza and the other 3 women. “My apologies, how rude of me” and he walked up to all of them. “My name is Dr. John Watson” extending his hand to shake each one. They returned the polite gesture. 

“So..” Cereza started “you obviously know Sebastian?” she arched her eyebrow. 

Sebastian jumped on John’s back and hugged him around his neck. “Ooof!” John exasperated “Yeah, we were in the same unit together in Kandahar. That's where I got shot and…” starting to trail off and look sad “..where you died” looking up at Seb. 

“Well, you’re not wrong, Johnny-boy. I DID technically die. But luckily, or unluckily depending on how you see it, a vampire found my body still alive at the time, and fancied himself an easy meal” He slid off John’s back and turned to face him. “And then did me the service of turning me, saying that he wanted a soldier to protect him when he went back to England”.  John frowned in sympathy. 

“So, I turned and he brought me back here. I wasn’t until one night when I was going out to dinner..” John noticed the term and looked to Cereza smiling “That a certain, beautiful eyed lady..” Walking up to Cereza and clasping her hand in hers “Managed to rescue me from my captor”. He took her hand and kissed it and she smiled back at him. 

“No doubt she did the same for you eh?” he said, turning back to John. 

“Yeah, she did” he smiled. 

“Why don’t we head into the cottage and have ourselves a nice chat there” Cereza offered. 

They all agreed and entered inside. 

John and Cereza were the last to enter but they both stopped and looked up. Small lights in the night sky not too far up and faint buzzing sound. 

“Inside John, I’ll take care of this” she looked at him out of the corner of her eye. 

He looked again at the light and then her. 

“Big brother?” he said. 

She smiled and pulled out her phone to dial. 

“Seems someone is being a little too nosy,” she said and connected the call “Go inside and mingle.” she said dismissing him “I’ll only be in a minute.”

  
  


***** 

In his office, finishing up some emails that needed to be sent, Mycroft leaned back and took a sip of his tea. Pressing the intercom on his desk, he called in Anthea for a status update as if there was any information about the missing Dr. Watson.

Anthea strolled into his office, never looking up from her blackberry, and responded “No sightings yet, however, we have sent out a few drones to the locations you have specified”. 

“Thank you, Anthea, that will be all,” he said dismissing her and she turned and promptly walked back out. 

It was then that Mycroft’s cell phone rang. Retrieving it from his inside jacket pocket and looking at the number, he smiled and swiped to accept it. 

“Good evening, Big Brother” sang the voice on the other line. 

“My dear, it's been too long, how have you been?” he smiled. 

“Oh, I’m fine thank you for asking. I’d return the courtesy, however, it's hard to care about another’s well being when the one in question is sending their robot minions to check up on me. I have half a mind to shoot those out of the air, you nosey git” she said rapidly. 

“Not to worry, they will move on soon. I am simply covering all my bases in regards to a missing individual of interest” he replied smoothly. 

“See that it does” she snapped back and was about to hang up the phone when Mycroft began to speak again. 

“Is everything on your end alright, my dear? Any new developments? Surely you’ve seen the news of the recent murders here in London?” he inquired. 

“Actually, Big Brother, I haven’t… I’ve been… preoccupied the last several days, and I’m afraid I will be busy for another week or so”. 

Mycroft stayed silent until he offered, “3 victims dead all from blood loss” he started. “Any details you could enlighten me with would be appreciated” he clipped. 

She sighed. “I’ll be in the city next week...perhaps I can...take a quick look” she conceded. 

“Wonderful, do keep in touch my dear” he replied as he went to end the call. 

“Wait!” she said quickly. 

“Yes?” Mycroft sounded surprised. 

“...I need one of your people to be at the pub, the usual, tomorrow night” 

“Of course my dear, it will be done” he replied and hung up the phone. 

Mycroft smiled to himself while taking another drink of tea. “Interesting…”

***** 

As John entered the cottage after everyone else, he noticed that Seb was already in the kitchen taking out some glasses. He saw him go to the mini-fridge and retrieve some blood packets and give a glass to each of the ladies. He looked up at John in askance and John just shook his head no. 

“Already had dinner then?” Seb asked while pouring himself a small glass. 

“Uh, yeah. First dinner out. Still processing everything” John shuffled his feet a bit. 

“Hmmm.. yeah, the first one seems to be the weirdest, right ladies? He looked toward Jane, Winnifred, and Blake. 

“SO weird!” Blake confirmed. 

“I had a mini panic attack when Ms. C told me to bite” Winnifred chimed in. 

“...but it tasted SO good, not like this” Jane replied gesturing to the cold blood in the glass. 

“I’ll drink to that” Seb offered and finished his glass in a big gulp. 

John felt a little better, knowing that he was around… friends? Colleagues? Fellow undead? 

He relaxed and joined the ladies further in the room and Seb followed. 

He heard Cereza enter and go to sit at the kitchen table. She had the air of a mom supervising the kids at a party. She was a maternal figure to the lot of them, but she was also proving to be a very good friend. 

John asked them about each other and their stories and they all were more than happy to tell him. All of them were similar, they were broken, alone and the victims of a vampire attack. Luckily being saved by Cereza and brought back here to learn to not be a monster. 

“Read all the books then?” Blake chimed in “Took Fred here...” pointing to her “a whole month to get through them” she said, teasing her. 

“Oi! I’m a slow reader ok” Fred complained. 

They chatted for a few hours among themselves and John regaled them with a few stories of his and Sherlock’s adventures. 

Sebastian asked John about getting shot. He told him that a Med-Evac team had found him in time to save his life. The wound got infected and ended up leaving a nasty scar. He was soon honorably discharged from the army and was sent home to London, where he met Sherlock. 

Cereza got up and stretched and told the guests that it was getting late, or in this case early as she looked at her phone and noted that sunrise was about an hour away. 

Jane, Blake, and Winnifred all shook John’s hand and hugged Cereza goodbye. 

Sebastian stepped up to John and gave him another big hug, one John heartily returned. 

“It was good to see you again, John. If you need anything, please don’t hesitate to ask” he spoke into John’s ear.

John smiled and squeezed him harder “It's good to know that I have a mate like me out there. Seb, I was so devastated when you died. I’m glad we’ve both got this second chance to be friends again”. 

Sebastian smiled “Me too” and released him. He moved to Cereza taking her hand once more, kissing it “Always as pleasure, Ms. C” he purred. 

“Go on then,” she said sweetly to Sebastian. He waved goodbye to John and headed out the door. 

John returned the wave and sat down at the kitchen table. He brought his elbows down and held his head in his hands. It had been a long, educational, terrible, brilliant night. 

Cereza sat down across from him. 

He raised his head and thanked her. It was good to know that he had friends in this....community and was grateful for it. 

She smiled and then leaned back in the chair.

He saw it. 

As soon as she leaned back and the space where she had been occupying his line of sight changed, he looked at the bookcase where the mirror was still leaning up against it. 

His reflection was back. 

***** 

John got up from his chair and approached the mirror. 

He was looking at himself, but also at the same time a complete stranger. 

His eyes were bright red. 

Gone was the blond in his hair and instead was replaced by silver, throughout. 

He noticed that the clothes that Cereza had got him, clung to him in all the right places. 

He looked… good. Better than good. 

He was so worked up about how much he had changed for the worse that it didn’t even occur to him that there might be something good that came out of this horrific change to his life. 

Wait. Horrific? Was that even an accurate term to describe what had happened? On one hand, yes he was dead, but on the other hand, he had gained so much more. He was stronger, faster, fitter and now belonged to a community that readily accepted him. He had a teacher and peers to rely on. 

Not to say in his previous life he didn't have friends, Mike, Molly, Greg, sometimes but very rarely Mycroft and of course Sherlock. 

Surely they would still welcome him back into their group of friends...right? 

From the way Cereza spoke about “Big Brother” it seemed that Mycroft was already aware of these types (his type) of people and didn’t outright hunt and kill them. In fact, it sounded like Cereza and Mycroft had some sort of understanding. Perhaps that's what John would at least hope for when he saw his friends again. 

Cereza appeared behind him in the mirror “Not bad, eh?” She said. 

“You know, I was really worried about what I would see in the mirror..” John said and her hand met his shoulder. “But I don’t hate what I see. I still see me. I just look a little different now…” 

** Cereza smiled “To paraphrase a quote from one of my favorite movies:  All this means is a redefinition of your identity- the incorporation of this new data into who you are. Be who you've always been. Just... be this as well, from time to time”. **

John smiled into the mirror at her.  She wrapped her arms around him and gave him a peck on the cheek. 

“So, how about we do something fun?” She said. 

“Fun… What did you have in mind? He chuckled. 

“Well, you’ve already tried out your running and seen how fast you are...how about we do a strength test this coming evening? She released the hug. 

“You mean like lifting heavy logs?” he laughed. 

She laughed back “No, silly. Something that you are all too familiar with… combat training”. 

“Combat...why would I need some of that. Will I run into that kind of… trouble now that I’m this” gesturing to himself. 

“Remember how I told you about some of our kind that kills when they go out to dinner,” she asked. John nodded and looked a little nervous. 

“Well, if you run into one of them, which is entirely likely. They are not the most polite or pleasant people to be around for a number of reasons. And if they want to start something, you…” she pointed in John’s direction” “...sure as hell are going to finish it”. 

John smirked “Alright, sounds good”. 

“Good” she smiled back “For now, review your books, and I’ll come get you this evening." She turned and started heading for the door. 

“Umm...Cereza” John started and she looked behind her “Where do you go during the day?” 

She looked away and then back again. 

“There is a small cave out in the forest, not too far from here where I go and meditate during the daylight hours. It's quiet and peaceful and it helps with my mental health,” she replied plainly. 

“Oh, ok then. Perhaps I’ll try a little of that as well. God knows I have a ton of things on my mind. Might be a good thing to sort things out.”

“I’ll see you tonight” she winked and then left John alone once more with only myself to keep him company. 

******

It was just after sunset when Cereza came back. John had reviewed his books during the day and even tried mediating himself, to see if that would help him with any remaining anxiety he was feeling about things. He reflected on becoming a vampire, drinking blood, Sherlock; all the important things.  She found him sitting in the middle of the floor, crossed legged with his hands on his thighs with his eyes closed. “Seems I’m really starting to rub off on you” she mused. 

He opened his eyes and smiled at her. “You know, it really does help to just take an inventory of what’s happening inside me for a bit”. He stood up and straightened his clothes and walked up to her.

“You look… great!” he said in astonishment. She was no longer wearing her typical black t-shirt, jeans combo. She was now in a low-cut black shirt with a leather jacket, ripped tight black jeans, and combat boots that were more fashionable than tactical. She even had what appeared to be one contact lens in her left eye which had turned the red iris to brown.

“Always the gentleman Dr. Watson'' she smiled “Along with combat training, we’ll also be going out. Dinner first, then fun” and she fished into her pocket and gave him a contact lens case. “You’ll need to put these in,'' she said, “we’re going to be around people tonight”.  John opened the case and saw two blue contact lenses within. He nodded and walked over to the mirror and put in the lenses. After checking his reflection in the mirror, he smiled and made his way back over where she took his hand and led him out the door. 

“Where are we going for dinner tonight? Are we going back to Carter’s?” he asked. 

“Miss him already do you?” she teased and he rolled his eyes. 

“Tonight you're going to... Oh, what's the term... _c hat someone up_ at a bar and take them to dinner”. John stopped walking and looked uneasy. 

“I’ll be with you the whole time, I promise. Think of me as your wingman tonight” she winked. 

John didn’t move and looked away. 

“Listen, John. Look at me” and she took his chin and lifted it upwards, so their eyes met “This isn’t cheating on Sherlock, ok?” John scoffed and tried to look away but she held him there “This is survival, you need to learn. You're not having sex with them. You just need to bite and drink, just like you did with Carter”.

“I’m chatting someone up and they will think that I fancy them when in reality I’m just using them… a means to an end.” He replied darkly. 

“Are you joking? John, you do realize that’s exactly what everyone who goes looking to pick-up at a bar is doing right? They’re looking for a one night stand. How are you not seeing this? The only difference is that you’re not taking them home for sex. If anything is more innocent than a one-night stand.” 

John didn’t look convinced and she released his chin.

“Would you feel better if you watched me first?” She said with a sigh. 

“Not really, but... ok, I get it. I understand the purpose behind all this. I just need to…” he trailed off. 

“Get your feet wet? She offered with a smile. He returned her cheekiness with a frown. 

“C’mon she said” dragging him along.

***** 

As they edged closer to a more populated area, John started to feel it. He hadn’t been around a lot of normal people all at once yet and his senses were being overwhelmed. He heard every conversation around him and their heartbeats when he got too close. He could see their blood pulse in the veins of their necks.  Holding his hand, Cereza leaned in closer to whisper “As silly as it seems, take a breath and try to focus on one thing. It's overwhelming you, I can see it. Deep breath, hold for 5 seconds, and release. Focus on that for right now”.  John closed his eyes as they walked and did as she said as she led him down the street. He opened his eyes after a few breaths and his senses were no longer flooded with information. He mentally blocked out idle chatter around him and focused on the breathing rather than the heartbeats around him. 

“Very good Dr. Watson, I continue to be impressed with your control." She smiled and squeezed her hand in his. 

He looked up at her fondly “Only because I have a great teacher” he squeezed back. 

“Now, now. You’re supposed to chat some stranger up tonight, not me” she teased.

They arrived at an Irish Pub southeast of High Wycombe. It was a cozy venue that looked as if someone’s cottage had been renovated into a pub. It even had outdoor seating as well, which seemed to be empty as it was still early spring and a little too cold to drink outside yet.  John felt right at home when he entered. It reminded him of going out Friday nights with Stamford or Lestrade to watch the latest rugby match. He sighed in contentment as she led him over to a table. As he looked around the room, he saw that it was nearly full with patrons and started to get nervous again. 

Cereza looked over at him and leaned over the table to whisper “Relax…watch and learn. After I’ve got someone...follow us, discreetly”. He nodded. 

The waitress approached them and they ordered their drinks that they wouldn’t consume. Cereza gazed around the room and spotted her mark. She got up and approached the lone gentlemen at the bar. The conversation flowed naturally and she soon moved closer to the man and whispered in his ear about the outdoor seating being empty. The man took the cue and she escorted him out the back. John watched them leave and soon followed.

As John quietly exited the back, he peeked around the corner from where he heard the continued conversation between Cereza and the man. She dipped in to kiss him and her hand slowly moved up towards his head and neck. She kissed along his jawline and then moved to his neck, sucking a love bite at the spot. Once she could tell that the man was relaxed she bit into him and sucked out some blood. He could hear the man moan at her touch. But to John’s shock, it was over as soon as it started. She went back up to claim his lips and whisper “call me sometime”, gave him a wink, and walked back towards John and the pub.  She grabbed his hand and went back over to their table. 

“You make it look so easy,” he said 

“Well after over 200 years, you get the hang of it. Human nature does tend to be predictable when it comes to more...intimate interactions”. She smiled. 

“Advice?” he asked, pretending to take a sip of his drink. 

She looked around the room and spotted her. Cereza gestured with her drink, the girl at the end of the bar. She was of average build, blonde hair, soft green eyes, and tapping away on her blackberry. “That one”. 

He looked over at the girl “Any particular reason why that one?” he asked. 

“Just a feeling.” she smiled. “Off you go” she waved her hand dismissing him. 

John got up and went to sit at the bar seat next to her. He introduced himself and asked her if he could buy her a drink. She smiled and nodded. They carried on chatting for a bit when she rested her hand on his and asked if he wanted to go somewhere private. 

Cereza watched and smiled into her drink “Thank you, Big Brother” she thought.

John suggested the seating out back where it was a little more private, Cereza shadowing behind them.  When they made their way outside, John clasped her hand and pulled her in close saying “it was still a bit chilly outside and that she should stick close to keep warm”. Cereza rolled her eyes at the cliché of it all.  He dipped his head to hers and kissed her. Softly at first and then with more urgency. 

Cereza muttered quietly so the woman wouldn’t hear, but she knew John would. “Slow down cowboy, take a breath. Be gentle” she reminded him. 

John heard her and pulled back a little, slowing down and deepening the kiss. As she relaxed in his arms, he made his way to her neck and kissed her pulse point. He took a breath and slowly bit down and took a deep pull of blood from her. Swallowing and then kissing the spot where they had just punctured. Hardly even a mark was left. Without looking too closely one would assume it was just a hickey. He pecked her on the cheek and gave her the same line Cereza did earlier with her dinner date. 

As he rounded the corner, he found Cereza leaned up against the exit and she was smiling. John smiled back and she grabbed his hand and led him back to the bar to pay their bill and leave. 

“See? Not so bad right” she teased on their way out. 

“I..can… do this?” he questioned with apprehension. 

She slung an arm around his neck in a mock headlock and laughed. “Of course you can,” she chided. 

“Have we started combat training already?” he pulled himself out of the headlock. 

She smiled “Carter’s moved his cattle herd into the barn for the night so we have the whole field to ourselves”

She looked around to see if anyone was in the area. Seeing no one, she winked and took off at full speed. John laughed and raced after her. 

When John arrived at the field from the previous night, he saw Carter and Sebastian waiting for him. 

“Hey, Johnny blue-eyes” Seb called from the fence he and Carter were perched on. 

“Evening” he nodded to Carter. “What are you doing here Seb?” He took out his contact lens case and removed the coloured lenses. 

“I’m your sparring partner obviously,” he said hopping off the fence. 

“Oh, ok, that makes sense…” he trailed off and then looked over to Cereza.

Sebastian laughed “Wait, you thought you were going to be sparing with her? Oh no, Johnny, she's way out of our league. She’ll crush you like a bug!” 

John looked from Sebastian to Cereza, seeing a smug look on her face. She jumped up onto the fence with Carter and he wrapped an arm around her waist pulling her close whispering into her ear. She nodded and removed the contact lens in her left eye and discarded it into the grass below. He flashed her a fond smile. 

John’s eyes moved to Sebastian, noting how he removed his coat and started to limber up.  He smirked and removed his suit jacket, unbuttoned his cuffs on his button-down, and rolled them up to his elbows. 

“Any rules?” he asked to Cereza. 

“Your opponents will not abide by any rules, so neither should you,” she said darkly. “You and Seb are of similar age, strength, and combat knowledge. This should be interesting to watch”. Carter whispered to her “should have brought popcorn”.

“Now. Shall we begin?” and clapped her hands. 

Sebastian charged immediately and pinned John to the ground in one fluid motion leaving him dazed. “Jesus,” he said, blinking the star out of his eyes. Sebastian offered his hand to bring him back up to standing. 

“So it’s going to be like that, huh?” he scowled at Sebastian.

Seb gave him cheshire-like smile and moved back to where he started.

“Again!” she called and clapped her hands once more. 

John was ready this time and easily avoided Sebastian’s charge at the last second. He put out his arm and clotheslined him sending him tumbling to the ground. 

He moved over to Sebastian and offered his hand to help him up. 

“Johnny-boy wants to play does he?” he teased and grabbed John’s hand to help him up. 

He smiled smugly and they both went back to their starting points. 

“Again!” called Cereza once more.

From Carter’s perspective, neither of them moved. Yet somehow their clothes became more ragged and their hair more tossed. At one point he saw that Sebastian’s lip was bleeding, but he couldn’t see the blows back and forth, they were just too fast. 

“Enough!” called Cereza and the two collapsed on the ground. “Well done you two, that's enough for tonight I think”. She approached Sebastian first helping him up and giving him a spare blood packet. He thanked her and downed the entire thing in a few gulps.  She walked over to John and helped him up as well. Straightening his shirt and fixing his hair, she smiled at him. “Well done, Dr. Watson”. He looked up at her and she saw the fire in his eyes. 

“Really?” she asked, arching her eyebrow. He nodded. 

She smiled and called over to Sebastian “Seb, please be a dear and wait over by Carter. It seems our Dr. Watson wants a demonstration". 

Sebastian raced over to Carter and sat next to him. 

“She’s not going to do what I think she's going to… is she? Carter stammered. 

“Oooo! Johnny-boy’s going to get a tough lesson tonight!” he squealed in excitement. 

Carter looked over to John and then Cereza. He knew this was going to be quick. “Have you ever sparred with her?” he asked Sebastian. 

He laughed “I lasted a whole 4 seconds against her”. Carter’s eyebrows reached the top of his head. “This is going to be great!” Seb rubbed his hands together in anticipation. 

John heard their conversation and looked back to Cereza and smiled. “Well, I suppose I have my work cut out for me then?” 

“A word of advice Dr. Watson.” He looked into her eyes “Just because you are faster and stronger than you have ever been, it does not make you smarter. You are the same soldier you were before. Strength and speed are well in good, only when properly applied.” She gave him a quick peck on the cheek and moved across the field.  She removed her boots, now barefoot in the grass field, turned her back towards him when she called “Again!”. 

Silence fell over the farm. A slight breeze rustled through. Both opponents stood still in the night. 

Sebastian counted “1 Mississippi…” no one moved. 

“2 Mississippi…” Carter looked frantically from John to Cereza. 

“3 Mississippi…” Sebastian saw them both move. John ran to her right and she turned to meet him. 

“4 Mississippi…” John managed to catch her right leg and pull her down. Sebastian gasped. 

“5 Mississippi'' Carter breathed, and it was over. Cereza had twisted to move out of his grip, had him pinned down; her mouth at his neck in a bite hold. 

John was face up looking at the night sky. He didn’t dare move with Cereza’s teeth in him. 

“That was… incredible” he breathed. She smiled into his neck and released him. 

“You know I'm both proud and slightly offended that you went from that direction. You assumed that my eye-sight was worse on my right-side…” pointing to her milky eye “Excellent strategy, Dr. Watson” she leaned up still straddling him on the ground. 

Cheers and wolf-whistles came from the nearby fence.  She looked up at the audience, smiled, and waved as she put her boots back on. Then got up and pulled John up with her. 

“Let’s call it a night, huh?” she said, pulling him into an embrace. 

He nodded as he wrapped his arms around her.

****************

For the next few days, it was rinse and repeat. Meditate during the day and then dinner and training at night.  One morning during his self-reflection, he heard a *ping* noise. Cereza must have left her phone here while she went to her cave. He got up and looked at the locked screen seeing the preview of the text. 

3 days remain before I find you - SH

His grin reached his eyes. He couldn’t wait to see Sherlock again. After days of meditation, he thought himself ready to confront him with the things that had changed within and without. Sherlock would either accept the change or he wouldn’t and there wasn’t anything John could do or say that would change that. He needed to make peace with it, after all, he had the rest of his undead life to now live with it.  He reflected on Sherlock for the remainder of the day. What would he say when he saw him? How would Sherlock react? He ran through scenario after scenario of what could and could not happen. He soon realized this was the opposite of what he wanted to achieve. Scenario-based thinking was not productive in this sense and not great for his mental health either.  Luckily, as soon as he realized his mistake he heard Cereza enter the cottage. 

“You got a text” he called from his sitting position in the living room. 

She strolled over to the table where she left her phone and unlocked it. She smiled and turned to him. 

“Think you’re ready for the big city?” she said. 

John rushed up to her, a pleading look in his eyes “Oh god, yes”. 

She giggled with excitement. “Alright, let me get changed. You, go put on a fresh suit”. 

Coming back into the room, she had changed back into the low-cut black top, but this time adding a black suit jacket of her own. Her hair was done up in a messy bun with two silver hair sticks nestled within.  John smiled and turned around to show off the new suit to her. She walked over to John to style his hair, he sighed, but allowed it.

“One must look their best for their posh London boys” she teased. She straightened his tie and ran her hands down his lapels. “He won’t be able to resist!” she smiled brightly. He caught her wrists gently and asked “Time to go home?” 

“Yes, Dr. Watson, I do believe it is time you went home. Not that I don’t appreciate your company.” and leaned her forehead to his. 

“I can’t thank you enough. Please call me for anything you need and I'll be there” he replied. 

“Ditto” she replied simply and they both smiled. 

“Now,” she said leaning back “We have a small errand to run first. Big Brother wanted me to look into something this week while we were in the city”. 

“Case?” he said naturally, which he caught himself smiling at. 

“A number of people in London have been found dead, COD being exsanguination,” she said in a serious tone. “We are going to the morgue to see the bodies. No doubt your man has already looked at them, but Big Brother would like my opinion on the matter”. 

“Shall we?” and headed out the door with John following her behind. 

As they entered the quiet forest, Cereza turned and cautioned him. “Dr. Watson, the city will be bright, loud, and distracting. It will take a lot of your concentration to keep everything together, but I believe you can do it. Keep close to me”. 

He nodded and they both took off racing across the fields and roads on their way to London. Once in the city, they mainly traveled from rooftop to rooftop, keeping out of sight.  When they arrived on St.Bart’s roof she sent a text and told John to wait there. He asked why he couldn’t accompany and she gave him a look. 

“Right, everyone knows me here. People will ask too many questions. Got it” and he sat down and leaned against the wall of the roof-top entrance to the building. 

She left through the door and he was alone. 

Alone on the roof. 

Alone on the roof of St. Bart’s. 

John felt an aching pain run through him as he thought of Sherlock. This is where he had faked his suicide. The pain racked through him and he tried to keep it together. “Sherlock’s not dead. He’s safe. It wasn’t real. Just a magic trick”. He took deep breaths in and out, the panic slowly subsiding.  He stood up and started pacing, he needed to move to keep his mind off his location. 

Cereza appeared after 20 minutes telling John about the bodies downstairs. 

“I think we may need a little more information, don’t you think?” she smiled. 

“Baker Street?” he asked, his eyes shining. 

She took his hand and they were off racing to Baker Street, to home. 

Once they were on the roof opposite of 221B Baker Street, John looked to the window of their home. The lights were on, along with Sherlock who appeared to be…eating? John’s heart ached when he saw this. He knows Sherlock doesn’t eat while on cases, so he must be making an effort to not let him down. He saw him pick up his phone and text something, raising his hands to his lips in his thinking pose. 

*ping* goes Cereza’s phone. She unlocks it and hands it over to John. 

4 victims, COD all exsanguinated - SH

John smiles and watches Sherlock as he responds: Dinner? - JW 

He watched Sherlock look at his phone with a wide smile, quickly typing a response. 

Your assistance would be invaluable - SH

He shows Cereza the text and she smiles. “Go on, then,” she says. 

He replies back and waits.

Roof - JW 

After a few minutes, he sees Sherlock on the roof of the building looking around. He then stops and stills. He looks to Cerezea and she nods, as John jumps over to the Baker Street roof. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Dogma; a 1999 American fantasy comedy film written and directed by Kevin Smith.


	5. Chapter 5

John is nervous. He comes up behind Sherlock and puts his hand on his arms, he’s not ready for Sherlock to see him quite yet, not without an explanation at least.  Sherlock is shivering, it must be cold up here. John no longer really notices temperature. 

“John?” he asked. 

Oh, how he missed that low baritone voice. He squeezes his arms. It's only been 2 weeks since he’s been away from him. But ever since the Fall, any time away from Sherlock is too long.  John finally gathers his courage and replies with a small “hey”.  Sherlock leans back into him and John wraps his arms around his consulting detective. Wait? His? Yes. His. He breathes in his scent and leans his forehead between his shoulder blades.  In surprise and overwhelming joy, Sherlock brings his hands up to his. 

After a beat, Sherlock starts to shiver again and John reluctantly offers “You should go back inside”. 

“Will you be joining me?” Sherlock responds softly. 

John brings him even closer to his body. This is the most points of contact that they’ve ever had and neither of them is pulling away. Despite their closeness, John still offers Sherlock and out...just in case. “I’m not sure I should...I’m...I’m still…” 

Sherlock brings one of John's hands to his heart. John can feel the heartbeat, and it's overwhelming. Not in hunger, but protection and loyalty and most of all love. He would do anything for this man. And if the gesture itself didn’t mean the world to him, Sherlock’s answer of “Always” does him in. His heart is full.  John nods and releases his arms around Sherlock. Before he can turn around John quickly tries to explain before Sherlock can deduce. 

"Before you turn around...please try to understand that this was not my choice and that I understand if this changes things between us” he looks down as not to scare the detective. Cereza did say the eyes tend to put people off the most and he hadn't put in his contact lenses tonight. 

As Sherlock turned around he heard him say "John, what could you possibly...." and then silence. 

Oh no. This was a terrible idea after all. He’s not saying anything anymore.  Mr. Has-an-Opinion-About-Everything-and-Will-Tell-You-About-It-At-Length is silent.  John continues to look at his shoes like they are the most interesting thing in the world. He will wait for Sherlock to make the next move.  Sherlock steps closer to him. If John still needed to, he wouldn’t be able to breathe at this moment. Sherlock’s hand is on his chin now, wanting to lift it.  John’s so overwhelmed with emotion that all he comes up with is “I’m sorry” as he lifts his head to meet Sherlock’s eyes. 

******

Cereza looked on; she saw the Baker Street boys move closer to one another and sighed happily, "Ah, young love...".  Her eyes then flicked to the street outside of 221B and saw a black sedan and police cruiser pull up.  Her eyebrows furrowed in anger and thought to herself "Oh hell no! They are not interrupting this moment". She looked back at Sherlock and John, smiled, and then jumped down an alleyway and made her way to the front of their flat.  Just as Mycroft lifted his arm to knock on the door he was stopped by Cereza quickly appearing in front of him, blocking his way. 

"Big Brother, so good of you to drop by..." she gave him a toothy smile. 

Mycroft, stunned only momentarily, lowered his arm and clutched his umbrella "My dear, how are you this evening?" he replied cordially. 

"Wonderful, and you?" she moved closer to him, invading his personal space. 

Mycroft stood his ground "Busy, as always I'm afraid" he breathed. 

"You should learn to take a vacation" she ran her fingers up the lapels of his coat sneaking a few inside his jacket. 

"I tell him that all the time" Lestrade chimed in as he and Molly Hooper approached the duo. 

Cereza's eye moved to the detective and the doctor.  "Ms. Hooper, Detective Inspector" she nodded "Good to see you again". 

Molly blushed and Lestrade offered his hand to her.  She obliged and shook it in greeting. 

"Is there a reason why you are delaying our entry into my brother's flat?" Mycroft asked

"Delaying? Delaying? Mycroft I haven't the foggiest as to what you are suggesting." she smiled and spoke a little louder "Why would I want to give your brother the head's up of you and his colleagues arriving at his flat?" 

Molly and Lestrade looked at each other confused, Mycroft annoyed.  Cereza smiled and heard Sherlock and John upstairs enter the building and were now back in the living room. Her eyes showed Mycroft that she was tracking their movements. 

"May we enter now?" he finally said. 

And as if on cue, the front door opened behind her, and there stood Mrs. Hudson "What's all this shouting about going on..." she trailed off as Cereza turned to see her. 

"OH! My dear! it's been too long" opening her arms to Cereza. She smiled and welcomed the hug of Mrs. Hudson. "Can I get you something to eat my dear, I always keep a fresh batch in the fridge in case you stop by" 

Cereza smiled "That would be wonderful Mrs. Hudson" and she leaned in to whisper in her ear so no one else could hear "Bring up two mugs". 

Mrs. Hudson released her from the hug and looked at her wondering, and she nodded and went to black to her flat. 

"Shall we?" Cereza gestured to the group and stood aside to let everyone else in, winking at Molly as she passed. 

********* 

"John..." breathed Sherlock as they finally locked eyes. 

John looked up at the detective and saw what he missed most in this world, those beautiful eyes. The colours of a storm; green, blue, silver; all together at once.  Sherlock was looking back at him. There were no signs of disgust, hatred or fear. He was...smiling. Which John couldn't help but return in kind.  Sherlock's hand moved from John's chin and slid along his jawline, moving closer still and dipped his head. 

"It's happening!" John's brain screamed at him "oh my god, it's happening!" 

John leaned up and brought his arms around Sherlock's waist as their lips finally met. When John felt Sherlock's lips on his, his mind exploded into fireworks. How long had he imagined this moment? How many restless nights had this moment occupied his thoughts?  They moved slowly against each other, testing the waters. Slow and soft kisses meaning more than words could ever achieve. Sherlock’s hands moved to the back of John’s head to bring him impossibly closer, causing him to hold back a throaty moan when he felt Sherlock’s tongue slide across the seam of his lips.  He pulled back panting breath he didn’t need. When he opened his eyes he saw Sherlock’s eyes were dilated, his breathing increased, and a slight flush up against his neck and cheeks. 

"We need to get inside quickly, we have company" John breathed. "Do me a favor and close your eyes". 

Sherlock looked puzzled but closed his eyes. John embraced him once more and lifted him off the ground. When John set him back down, Sherlock opened his eyes and they were back in their living room.  He was a little dazed and feeling a minor case of vertigo, but John steadied him and removed his coat and scarf. 

"Sorry, are you alright?" he asked Sherlock, bringing his hands up on either side of him. 

"Fine. Fine...it's all fine" he looked a little confused and then brought his hand back up to John's face and smiled. 

John heard the approaching steps and moved to the kitchen to turn on the kettle.  Sherlock grinned. There was nothing that couldn't be solved without a good cup of tea.  Sherlock went to open the door and allow entry to his guests. 

"Lestrade, Molly...Mycroft'' he practically growled the last name. A slight breeze rustled past him catching him off guard, he looked, but the hallway was empty.  Turning, he saw Molly and Lestrade settling in on the couch and Mycroft sitting in John's chair.  Everyone was silent and didn't say a word. Sherlock strolled over to his chair and glanced in the kitchen. John was no longer there, frowning, he sat down with a "whump". 

"As much as I appreciate all of your company" Sherlock mocking sincerity 'What are you doing here?" and then looked directly at Mycroft. 

Mycroft tilted his head at Sherlock and heard the electric kettle clicked off on its own. 

"You never make tea" his eyes narrowed further and took in Sherlock's appearance. His hair slightly disheveled, his shirt and suit jacket askew. "Ah, the good doctor is back I see, congratulations" he smiled. 

"What? John's back?" Lestrade said excitedly. 

"Indeed," said a voice from the kitchen. There Cereza stood, leaning against the table staring at the younger Holmes brother. 

Sherlock's eyes shot up and stood immediately, walking over to her. He looked into her eyes. The same red eye as John’s, impossibly fast and the faint smell of blood on her lips.  He looked away and then back again, now softer. 

"You brought him back to me, didn't you?" he said quietly. 

She smiled and shook his hand. 

"Cereza" she introduced. 

"Sherlock Holmes... thank you" he replied and moved back to his chair. 

"You can come out now Dr. Watson!" she called. 

The bathroom door opened and John walked slowly into the living room. When he arrived at the entrance to the room he leaned against the wall and finally met each pair of eyes with his own.  Another moment of silence in the room, which was soon disturbed by a "Whoo-hoo" from Mrs. Hudson.  She entered the flat carrying two mugs on a tray making her way into the kitchen. When she finally looked up she caught John's eyes, she knew. Without hesitation, she walked over to him and kissed him on the cheek and hugged him.  He hugged her back. 

"Thank you Mrs. H" he whispered to her.  And with that, she left the flat without another word.  Cereza picked up the two mugs and gave one to John with a knowing look. He smiled and they both took a sip.

Lestrade stood up and made his way over to John. Staring into his red eyes he spoke "Alright, mate?" with a hint of a smile. 

"Yeah..." he looked down as if embarrassed "Yeah, I'm alright" he smiled back.  Lestrade brought him in for a hug, which surprised John initially, but he quickly relaxed and hugged back.  When they released the embrace, Lestrade made his way back over to the couch with Molly. John took another sip from his mug.

"Umm..." John started "You all seem to be taking this...well?" John said, confused. "And it appears you've all previously met my teacher...?" 

Cereza cleared her throat "You know I've dealt with Big Brother here in the past. As for the Detective Inspector, we met 10 or so years ago during one of his first cases. And with Ms. Hooper, I had the honour and delight of meeting her earlier today at Barts, when I went to check out the corpses at the morgue."  Molly squirmed uncomfortably on the couch, which made Cereza giggle. 

"The case, right," John said, putting his half-empty mug on the mantelpiece. 

John smiled to himself "Sherlock, you want to take us through it?" 

Sherlock looked delighted. He stood up and started to pace around the living room. 

"4 victims. All exsanguinated as the cause of death. All bodies have fang marks on the inside of their upper thigh" He looked to Cereza "Each was found outside of a different nightclub. No evidence left at the scene, except for a slight sign of struggle from the victim" he finished. 

Mycroft chimed in "Did you see anything on the bodies that my brother did not, my dear?" 

“Smelled, more like” she looked into her mug. “All four had the same type of smell”. 

“Type?” John asked. 

“The four victims were drained and killed by four different people. However, these four were all from the same bloodline. As in they were all MADE by the same person” she informed them. “Unlike myself, who has turned very few…” she started 

“No, you tend to take in strays…” Mycroft interrupted. 

“... _This_ person seems to be making quite the large family. The fact that there are a great number of them now in the city, and growing, I’d wager that one of the younger ones was responsible for John’s death and subsequent turning. He was probably turned the same way; minding his own business and then bit out of nowhere.” She sighed “John’s scar smells faintly of the same type.” John idly touched his arm.

“I make it my business to know every one of my kind in the surrounding London area. On my way in tonight, I clocked a few of my kind that I have never seen before." 

"Seems you are slipping in your old age, my dear" chided Mycroft. 

"Oi!" she cuffed the British Government lightly behind the head. Sherlock and John tried to stifle their laughter. 

“Hold on...” Moly began “This, this is real...you and John are…” her eyes going wide. 

“Yes, Ms. Hooper, John and I are quite dead” looking a little somber. “However, in our death was a strange sort of second chance, one might say. We’re the same person as we were before…” 

“...just with some new data now” John finished, smiling at her. 

"Why are you helping us?" asked Molly. 

"Simple, Ms. Hooper. I have a deal with Big Brother here. Me and my students are allowed to live in the London area without fear of reprieve from any authorities so long as they behave. London is my territory and I have worked hard to keep it that way. The world is kept ignorant of our kind so that we may live the best life we can. Up until today, you had no idea that my kind actually existed. I would prefer to keep it that way. If word got out that we lived among you... well, that would cause all sorts of trouble I'm sure."

"Why even risk it then?" responded Lestrade. 

She shrugged "Fish gotta swim, birds gotta eat. It's easier to get a meal in the city." 

“You mentioned; territory?” Sherlock asked. 

“For a lack of a better term, London and the surrounding area is our exclusive hunting ground. No other agreement has been made, at least to my knowledge, of any others being allowed to hunt here.” She narrowed her eyes at Mycroft. 

Mycroft scoffed “Obviously no other agreements have been made.”

“We need to find their leader, why they are here, and most importantly, tell them to sod off,” she said sternly. "I'll need the next few nights to look into a few things and check in with a few contacts," Cereza said now typing on blackberry, which Sherlock noticed was Mycroft's.  She finished and gave the phone back to Mycroft, which prompted a scoff and frown from him. 

"Well, I suppose if that's it, we should be on our way," Lestrade said and he and Molly stood to leave. "Call us if you have anything" he pointed at Sherlock and John and he and Molly walked out the door. 

"I'll take my leave as well, I suppose" Cereza stated. 

She walked over to John and leaned her forehead to his and whispered. "You're home now, but there is still work to do. Be good. Practice. I'll be in touch" and she kissed his cheek. 

"I will," he said softly, and she  _ *poofed* _ out the door. 

As Mycroft stood and looked at Sherlock. "I'll send Anthea over tomorrow morning with a fresh mobile for John." 

He turned to look at John "I've already told your clinic that you'll be on sabbatical for a while. so no need to get in touch with them"

John nodded. 

“One more thing…” Mycroft started, but Sherlock interrupted.

“Please brother, don’t be obtuse. John is no threat to me. Leave. Now.”

Mycroft stiffened and gave John a knowing look. 

"Good evening, gentlemen" and he left. 

Sherlock walked over to the door and locked it behind him.  John sighed and retrieved his mug from the mantle and took another sip.  Sherlock turned and walked over to John, practically humming with curiosity as he inspected his mug. 

John smirked.

"Do you have a preference?" Sherlock asked. 

"As in type?" John replied. 

"Type, temperature, human, animal, blood bag or straight from the source...." John lifted his hand to stop him. 

"I'm sure you have a lot of questions, Sherlock. Can we go sit on the couch together? I'll answer them as best I can" John took Sherlock's hand and walked them over to the couch.  John sat and relaxed into the back of the couch. Sherlock sat next to him, close enough that their legs were touching. Feeling bold, Sherlock rested his head on John's shoulder.  John smiled and moved his arm up and over so he was running his hands through Sherlock's curls at the back of his head.  Sherlock sighed contently, almost purring. 

"O negative...preferably straight from the source," he said quietly. "But any will do and at any temperature, although I do prefer it warmed up. And animals, no...it's disgusting". 

Sherlock smiled "What did you try? Someone's poodle?" John laughed "Cow, her name was Betsy". They both giggled. 

"You should get some sleep" he whispered to Sherlock. 

"You know I don't sleep on cases, John" he pouted. 

John rolled his eyes. "Well, you're going to have to do the sleeping for both of us now, because..." 

Sherlock leaned up and looked into his eyes "You don't sleep anymore". John nodded. 

“Here, why don’t you lie down” John embraced and pulled him on top of him.  Sherlock’s nose nestled into the crook of John’s neck and they stretched out across the length of the couch. 

Sherlock sighed happily “I missed you” he muttered softly. 

“And I, you,” John answered back. 

“I like your new look by the way…” Sherlock’s hand now on top of John’s chest, drawing lazy circles... 

“Good?” John asked. 

“Different, but good different. You’re still you, that’s what matters” he replied. 

“My eyes aren’t...I don’t know… offputting, I guess?” he looked up. 

Sherlock readjusted to stare. 

“It doesn’t matter what colour your eyes are, John. Don’t be an idiot” he smiled and snuggled in once more. 

“I hope I didn’t overstep my bounds up there on the rooftop when we...when I…” Sherlock, trying to find the right words. 

“When we finally kissed after all these years” John offered. 

Sherlock nuzzled into him. “Yes...that” he confessed. 

“I’m glad you did, glad WE did” John squeezed him a little. 

Sherlock laid his hand over John’s heart, not feeling it beat beneath his hand “Does it hurt?” bunching the shirt in his grasp. 

“Hurt?” John whispered. 

Sherlock swallowed “Being dead” his words coming out in a choked breath. John sighed and shook his head. 

“I feel I’ve both lost and gained you at the same time…” Sherlock began, “You were taken from me and then returned. You’ve no breath, no pulse, yet I have your warmth all around me.” Overwhelmed by emotion, Sherlock buried impossibly closer into John seeking reassurance. Clinging to him, never wanting to let go. 

“Shhh… it’s ok love” John stroked Sherlock’s curls. “We’ll figure it out together like we always have. Now, get some sleep” he whispered.  He heard Sherlock’s breathing even out and his heartbeat slow to a nice steady rhythm. This was soon becoming John’s favorite sound in the world. 

*****************

When Sherlock woke up the next morning, he was alone on the couch. Frowning, he sat up and saw that he had a blanket and proper pillow along with a steaming hot cup of tea on the coffee table waiting for him.  He smiled and looked around the flat. The sun was shining in through the windows from the living room, the beams of which landed on John's chair.  Sunlight. Right, having the curtains opened during the day was now probably considered a bit not good.  He took a sip of his tea, relaxing and savoring the taste. John always did make a spectacular cup of tea.  Sherlock strained his ears trying to hear where John was, however, the flat seemed uncomfortably silent.  He stretched as he stood and went into his bedroom to change into some more comfortable clothing for the day.  Finding a well-worn pair of pajama pants and a soft t-shirt, he added his robe and went to see if John was upstairs in his room.  Climbing the steps he gently knocked on John's door. 

"Morning" came a quiet voice from inside. 

Sherlock opened the door. The room was dim from the curtains being shut but still light enough to see everything.  John was sitting on the floor of his room, eyes closed, his back to Sherlock, with his hands clasped in his lap.  Sherlock went to go sit beside him, pulling a nearby pillow over to sit on.  They were both quiet for a time. 

"Should I leave?" Sherlock finally said, not really knowing what to do. 

"If you like," John replied. 

"Can I ask what you're doing?" 

John flitted open his eyes, blinking a few times, and looked over to Sherlock. 

Smiling "Since I can't go out in the daytime, I now spend the daylight hours in meditation and self-reflection" He saw Sherlock start to frown and John laughed a little "I know, it sounds like a hippy thing to do. But I find it very beneficial. Think of it like me spending time organizing my own Mind Palace."

This made Sherlock smile. 

"Anything I can do to help?" Sherlock asked. 

John closed his eyes again, turning back. 

"Your occasional presence is nice. I find your heartbeat very relaxing"

Sherlock flushed and immediately his heartbeat increased. 

John giggled "You're adorable". 

"I have some of my own thinking to get done today. Can I stay here with you?" 

John smiled "Of course, although I suggest you move to the bed as it will be more comfortable than the floor" 

"Won't you be uncomfortable?" 

John shook his head slightly. 

Sherlock got up from the floor and moved to lie down on John's bed.  Lying on his back and head nestled into the pillows, John’s scent surrounding him, he closed his eyes and brought his hands up into this thinking pose.  John cracked open an eye to watch him for a while and then retreated into his mind with the steady heartbeat of his flatmate to ground him. 

It wasn't until late afternoon that Sherlock came out of his Mind Palace. He opened his eyes staring up at the ceiling, quickly remembering he was in John's bed. 

"You should eat something," John said. His eyes were still closed, he hadn't moved an inch. Silent and stoic as a statue. Sherlock rolled over, his head hanging off the bed and watching John upside down. 

"Mrs. Hudson dropped by some sandwiches and left them on the table. I think Anthea was also here, dropping off my new mobile. She put something in the fridge, most likely a few blood bags. I wouldn't be surprised if that became a regular thing". 

"Regular thing?" Sherlock asked 

John opened his eyes and saw Sherlock in this silly position and arched his eyebrow "One would assume Mycroft wants me to behave and not be tempted to do anything...untoward his younger brother. So keeping a stocked fridge at all times, in his mind, makes it more unlikely for me to get a little peckish I suppose."

"You said last night that you prefer straight from the source" Sherlock now rolling back over to right himself, as he was getting dizzy from the head rush. 

"I did and that's still true. But just because I prefer it, doesn't mean that I can't adhere to this type of diet instead." closing his eyes once more. 

Sherlock was about to say something, but John cut him off "I know exactly what you're going to say and/or offer Sherlock and the answer is No." 

Sherlock frowned "Am that unappetizing to you?" he sounded quiet, looking away. 

John scoffed and in the blink of an eye, his lips were on Sherlock's in a slow but chaste kiss. 

"Quite the opposite, I assure you".

Sherlock sighed into the kiss, he could definitely get used to this. 

Feeling more daring, Sherlock deepened the kiss asking for entrance into John’s mouth. John moaned and opened to him and felt Sherlock’s tongue dance with his. John wrapped his arms around his detective and rolled him on top of him. One hand resting on Sherlock’s hip and the other tangled in his curls. He could feel Sherlock’s desperation, rocking his hips with every thrust of his tongue. When he swiped his tongue against John’s teeth and the smallest trickle of blood bloomed in his mouth, Sherlock could feel the change immediately. If John was already thoroughly enjoying himself from their kissing, it now shifted into overdrive with the hint of blood mixing in. John sucked on Sherlock’s tongue making Sherlock’s breath quicken and grind harder into John. He could feel John’s hard sex grind along with his, gasping in pleasure with each rock of his hips.  Sherlock pulled back, needing air, resting his head to the side of John’s. 

“You shouldn’t have done that,” John said in a growl, which only went straight to Sherlock’s, already too tight, PJ bottoms. 

“Would you believe me If I said it was an accident?” Sherlock said between breaths. 

John huffed “No, of course not. It was an experiment, wasn’t it?” He turned to look into Sherlock’s eyes. 

Sherlock gazed back and then away “...a bit,” he said sheepishly “But you seemed to enjoy it...and quite frankly so did I. “ Sherlock brought a hand up and caressed John’s cheek “I know you won't hurt me John” and nuzzled his nose along the side of John’s.  John leaned in for one more long and deep kiss, then shifted Sherlock off of him. 

"C'mon, you need to eat" John pulled Sherlock up from the bed gently. 

Grumbling and rearranging himself in his pants, Sherlock complied and followed John downstairs. 

******

When they made their way downstairs, Sherlock grabbed the curtains and closed them as a precaution. "I'll purchase some better blackout curtains for the flat'' Sherlock offered. 

John smiled "Thank you" he grabbed a plate and added some sandwiches to it from the tray Mrs. Hudson left and put the remainder in the fridge. 

He poured himself a mug from the plentiful blood bags now occupying the top shelf. Walking with plate and mug in hand, he settled into his chair handing the plate to Sherlock. 

"Eat" John urged as he took a sip of his mug. "Hmm!" he said suddenly. 

"What?' Sherlock asked. 

"We'll need to sweep for bugs in the flat again, I think" John looked up from his mug. "Nothing but O negative blood in the fridge and I can hear a slight buzzing sound from the bookcase and the lamp by the window". 

Sherlock stood up and sure enough, he found the two bugs where John had stated. He deactivated them immediately. 

"You're hearing is incredible" Sherlock complimented him, now inspecting the plate of sandwiches. 

"I could hear everything in this building and most of the conversations going on in Speedy's right now, if I let myself to"

"Let yourself?" 

"It would be sensory overload if I did that. Part of the meditation is to help me focus on a few things and not be overwhelmed. Breathing exercises also help... even though... you know" he waved vaguely at himself. 

Sherlock sat back down, furrowed his brow, and took a bite of a sandwich. 

John smirked "I can see the gears turning in your head I swear..." looking fondly at his detective "I will not be accompanying you undercover tonight". 

Sherlock's eyes snapped to John. 

"Who said anything about..." Sherlock started. 

John looked at him and rolled his eyes. "Obviously, you've found a pattern in the nightclubs that were hit and you want to go to the next logical location to stake it out, yes?" 

"Obviously" Sherlock replied and gave him a cheshire grin. 

John shook his head "It will be too much for me right now, being around that many people at the same time. Take Lestrade with you. I'll stay outside, most likely rooftop, to watch and listen from there."

"What will you be listening for? Surely the hundreds of conversations and most likely pounding music will make it impossible to decipher one thing from another" Sherlock argued confused.

John took a long drink from his mug "Sherlock before I turned into this." gesturing to himself "I could pick your voice easily out of a crowd. You have a very distinctive tone, even if you are trying to disguise it. Now that I'm...different, my senses are heightened and can zero in on particular sounds. And failing that, I've just spent the better part of 6 hours meditating and learning your heartbeat. If I hear an irregularity in it, I'll know somethings off". 

Sherlock twitched the hint of a smile and continued to eat his sandwich. 


	6. Chapter 6

A few hours later, a little after sunset, Sherlock excused himself to his bedroom to go get changed for the undercover stakeout at the next nightclub. As Sherlock busied himself, John paced by the window, fiddling with his new phone. He decided to text Cereza to check-in. 

We’re going to be hitting up Crimson Prism tonight. Sherlock thinks the next victim will be from there -JW 

I hope you don’t intend to enter yourself - C 

No, of course not. Sherlock and Lestrade will be inside. I’ll be rooftop - JW 

Good. I’ll swing by the flat in a few minutes. I’m also having your new clothes sent to Baker Street as well. Should be there sometime tomorrow - C 

Thanks. See you soon - JW 

“So, how do I look?” came Sherlock’s voice entering the living room. John turned and he gaped at what he saw. Sherlock was no longer in his standard suit attire. He was wearing a tight black v-neck shirt that barely brushed the top of his low riding jeans, chucks, and a leather jacket; his hair artfully tousled. 

Sherlock arched his brow “Your silence is confusing, John, do I look the part or not?”. 

John walked over to Sherlock, crowding him up against the nearest wall, staring into his eyes. John caught his wrists and pinned them near his head. Sherlock gasped and arched into him. Just as John thought, that shirt rode up high on his stomach with his arms raised. With one hand strong enough to hold Sherlock’s wrists in place, his other hand now skimmed the pale flesh now revealed to him. 

“You…” John took a breath “You can’t go out looking like that” he brought his lips to Sherlock’s neck, pressing his body against his. 

“John” Sherlock breathed. “I’ll be careful, Lestrade will make sure my virtue is intact” he whispered into his ear. 

John growled into his neck and muttered something that sounded exactly like the word “Mine”. 

Sherlock’s eyes rolled back and hissed through his teeth, rocking his hips into John. 

“Uh hem!” a throat was cleared from across the room. 

Neither of them moved. John muttered “Lestrade”, pulling away and retreating into the loo. 

“Incredible timing as ever, Gavin” Sherlock breathed and pulled himself together.

Lestrade was dressed similarly to Sherlock. Gone was his normal suit & tie and occasional trench coat. He was now also in jeans, a short button-up shirt, and boots. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt…” Lestrade stammered a little embarrassed, scratching the back of their head awkwardly. 

“You did…” Sherlock started.

A slight breeze ran through the flat and Cereza appeared lounging on the couch. 

“You’ll really shouldn’t show up unannounced Detective Inspector” smiling at them fully aware of the irony of her comment. She heard John puttering around in the loo and got up from the couch and knocked on the door. 

“It’s me,” she said and the door unlocked.

She entered to find John sitting on the edge of the bathtub with his head in his hands.

“What happened?” She sighed and sat next to him, her arm coming around to wrap him close to her. 

“I...I feel like I'm drowning, I guess. But not necessarily in a bad way... If that makes sense?” He tried to explain. 

“It doesn’t?” she replied laughing a little. 

He chuckled weakly in return. 

“Umm.. ok. So Sherlock and I have…” 

“Kissed, and little more, yeah?” she offered. 

John whipped his head around in surprise. 

“John, I can smell him all over you” 

He looked down embarrassed. She giggled. 

“Was it not you who said that everyone and their mother already thought you and Sherlock had been shagging for years now?” 

He choked a little “...uh, yeah” 

“So, what’s the issue here?” 

“When we were… being intimate…” 

Cereza rolled her eyes, but let him continue 

“...he pricked his tongue on my teeth...” 

She squeezed him a little. 

“And now that I’ve had a taste…” 

“You want more,” she finished for him. 

He raised his head and looked at her. 

When she met his gaze she simply continued with “Obviously”. 

He shook his head “Why does his blood do that to me, I didn’t feel that with Carter or anyone else? Why is his blood...why do I feel so...feral around him?” 

“Well, let me ask you this; before you were turned, did you love him?” 

“Yes” 

“Did you want to be with him, always?” 

“Yes” 

“Would you do anything to protect him?”

“Yes” 

“Then why are you surprised that the one person in the world whom you love, want to protect and be with the most - that _his_ blood is the most delicious, intoxicating ecstasy that you’ve ever tasted?” 

“...well, when you put it like that, I guess” 

“You're an idiot,” she said fondly. 

He sighed “Yeah, yeah I am” and smiled at her. 

“Ready to rejoin the party? She asked, fixing his hair and then pulling him up onto his feet. 

“Yes, thank you” 

They both exited the loo and joined Sherlock and Lestrade in the living room. 

Lestrade immediately tried to smooth things over “Listen, John, I’m sorry I showed up like that...I didn’t mean” John raised his hand in askance to stop. “It's fine Greg, it's… all fine” he looked to Sherlock and gave him a small smile saying that everything was indeed, ok. 

Lestrade nodded and turned to Cereza “So, what’s the game plan then?” 

“You two gentlemen” pointing to Sherlock and Lestrade “Will be my escorts for the evening. John will be up top on the roof keeping an eye on the alleyways and side streets next to the club.” 

“I hope you mean escorts as in protection and not whore, right?” Lestrade mocked. 

“A little from column A, a little from column B” she smiled gesturing with her hands in the air. 

Sherlock scoffed. Cereza winked at John and he smiled back. 

“Once we’re inside we’ll make our way up to the balcony area where the club owner is” 

“Friend of yours?” Sherlock asked. 

“Not exactly…” She trailed off “.. it’s not important” waving her hands to dismiss the remainder of what was left unsaid. “I’ll have a polite conversation with the owner while you two scope the place out”. 

“What exactly will we be looking for?” Lestrade asked. 

“Anything that seems out of place to be honest. I know your normal senses will be dulled in a setting like this, but as a genius and Detective Inspector, one would assume you would notice anything...off. I also brought some earpieces & mics for everyone so we can keep in contact” handing out the devices to everyone “courtesy of Big Brother, obviously”. 

Cereza strolled over to Lestrade and gave him an obvious up and down with her eyes. She attached a small bumblebee pin** to the lapel of his shirt and unbuttoned the top four of his buttons. “Maybe a little more column B for you, Detective Inspector” she teased, and he blushed. 

Sherlock looked at the pin now on Lestrade’s shirt. He had seen this before...but where?

As Cereza attached a copy of the pin to Sherlock’s jacket, she leaned in and whispered “You take care of him Sherlock Holmes, or you’ll have me to answer to” and she leaned back and gave him a wink. John looked down and smiled hearing her warning. Finally, she approached John to attach his pin as well to the lapel of his suit jacket. 

“What’s with the pin?” Lestrade asked 

“My family’s sigil, if someone from my world sees it, they’ll know you’re with me. It will open doors for you and in some cases, bar you from others. Only those whom I trust with my life are allowed to wear this pin”. 

Sherlock turned “I can understand Geoff and John, why me?” 

She arched her brow at the “Geoff” comment but quickly moved on “The Holmes family I go way back. Throughout the generations, their bloodline has never let me down.” She narrowed her eyes at Sherlock and quickly appeared in his personal space “and I don’t expect them to start anytime soon”. She stared directly into Sherlock’s eyes. He answered her gaze and nodded. 

“Wonderful!” she exclaimed, clapping her hands together “Let’s be off then” 

Cereza grabbed Lestrade’s arm and steered him out of the flat and down the stairs. 

John went over Sherlock taking his hand in his and rested his head on Sherlock’s chest. He could feel the warmth in him and his heartbeat calmed in. Sherlock brought his free hand to embrace John pulling him closer. 

“I’ll be fine, John,” he whispered. 

John looked up to meet his eyes and leaned in for a quick kiss “I know” he smiled. With Sherlock in hand, they left the flat making their way out to the black sedan waiting for them. 

******* 

It was a 30min drive to the nightclub in SoHo. As they exited the vehicle, Cereza took Lestrade and Sherlock on each of her arms to enter the club, while John took off to make his way to the roof. One look at the bouncer was all Cereza needed to give for them to gain entrance. The club was dark, with music pounding and lights and lasers pulsing over the crowd of patrons. There was a bar on each of the levels, 3 Sherlock noted. Cereza kept them close as they approached the employee guarding the entrance to the VIP lounge where the owner no doubt was. 

“I’m here to see Ciri” she leaned in to say into the bouncer’s ear. 

As the bouncer stepped aside, Sherlock couldn’t help but notice the love bite on the bouncer’s neck. They climbed the stairs to the lounge which overlooked the dancing crowd below. Up here, the sound of the music was slightly muffled but the deep base of it was still felt. You could have a conversation here and not lose your voice competing with the music. Cereza pulled them along to an empty table and cushions and got comfortable. 

“Go to the edge of the balcony and keep a lookout,” she told Sherlock. He left them and casually made his way over to look down at the crowd and surrounding club. 

She pulled Lestrade into her lap and looked into his eyes. “C’mon Detective Inspector, I expect you to play along. Can’t have people thinking you’re a cop”. 

He rolled his eyes and shifted to be more comfortable, bringing his arm around to wrap around her waist. 

“When do we meet the club owner?” he whispered into her ear. 

“She’s already here. One floor up, making her way down here” Her hands going up to his neck “I’m going to need you to relax Lestrade, I’ll need to make a show for Ciri. Do I have your consent to bite you?” 

Lestrade tensed. “Is this what I am tonight? You’re meal ticket? The distraction while Sherlock catches the bad guy?” 

“Well, I would have chosen Sherlock, but as you can imagine, I don’t John would like that very much” 

“Is this really necessary?” 

“Yes,” she breathed into his neck. 

Lestrade took a deep breath “You’ll owe me a favour” he conceded. 

“Absolutely” she smiled and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. “She’s coming”. 

***********

Sherlock scanned the crowd and noted all the entrances and exits. The killer would most likely be taking their victim out a side door into the alley. As he scanned the crowd he was startled to see two sets of eyes reflected back at him, the same as Cereza’s had when dropping off John’s letter. He spoke into his mic hidden in his jacket and relayed the information. 

“Two suspects. Bar on the second floor” Sherlock spoke into the mic. 

“Keep an eye on them,” Cereza answered.

“Moving closer to the bar” Sherlock slowly stalked off toward the suspects. 

“Be careful” he heard John through this earpiece “Do not engage, only observe”.

“Obviously, observing is what I do best,” he replied. 

Sherlock leaned up against a wall with a better view of the bar and its patrons. The people in his line of sight ebbed and flowed. He narrowed down the two suspects and got a closer look. Irish, late twenties, dressed well, he started to note in his mind. They both had a pin on their shirts, similar to the one he, John, and Lestrade were wearing. This one, however, appeared to be some sort of bird? Hard to see from across the room. He felt a hand wrap around his wrist, he looked and saw Lestrade cupping the side of his neck and looking a bit dazed, but otherwise fine. 

Lestrade looked at him and rolled his eyes "not the first time with her, probably won't be the last time" and smiled a little. 

Sherlock leaned in to whisper to Lestrade “The two by the bar" and Lestrade casually looked around, eyeing the bar for a few seconds longer and then continuing to scan the area. 

"Can you tell what they're talking about?" Lestrade said. 

"I can only make out a few words here and there based on their lip movement, nothing of consequence". 

They heard a faint whistle through the crowd which they noticed that the two by the bar, their heads snapped up. A third person appeared with them, their back towards Sherlock and Lestrade. Sherlock got the awful feeling that he'd seen this silhouette before. Straining his eyes to see properly through the blinking lights, the person finally turned in profile and Sherlock was able to make out one word "Roof" before his eyes widened in horror. 

***********

“Kiss me,” Cereza said plainly to Lestrade “Time to put on a show, kiss me” 

Lestrade looked her in the eyes and dipped his head in for a kiss. It was slow and languid, Lestrade took a deep breath in through his nose and kissed deeper. His tongue sliding across her lips. She sighed into the Detective’s mouth remembering the last time she had a taste of him. She released his mouth and moved down his jaw to his neck. Running her tongue along his pulse point, she felt him squirm in her lap. She bit down gently and took a deep pull. 

When Lestrade felt the teeth puncture his neck he was transported back to the time they met. He was a sergeant at the time working his way up to the inspector. 

********

It was supposed to be a standard drugs bust, but it went terribly wrong. As his team entered the suspect's house, gunfire was almost instant. He shouted to his team to fall back. He saw one of the suspects run out the back and ran after him with two officers trailing behind. Through the streets and a few alleyways, he finally trapped them in a dead-end. The suspect turned around and saw Lestrade and the two officers. 

“There’s nowhere to go, mate,” Lestrade called “Get on your knees with your hands in the air”. 

The suspect complied and Lestrade told the two officers to cuff him. However, when the two officers approached, the suspect withdrew a knife from his sleeve and slashed the throat of one officer and stabbed the chest of the other, and was now making his way to Lestrade. As the suspect lunged for him, he was intercepted by a woman, and for her credit, was greeted with a knife to the heart. She looked down at the knife in her chest and staggered a bit, but then pulled it out and dropped it to the ground. She strode over to the suspect and grabbed him by the head, snapping his neck in two. 

“Oh my god,” Lestrade breathed and went over to the woman “Are you alright?”. She smiled at him “I will be if you help me” she stammered. 

Lestrade took out his phone and started to call for an ambulance, but she stopped him. Lestrade looked at her bewildered “You’ll die if you don’t get medical attention”. 

She brought a hand up to his face and smiled “Take a deep breath and relax” and she moved in closer, her lips on his neck. “What? What are you doing? Ah!” She bit down and held him in place. 

After a few deep pulls, she released him. His legs felt like jelly and fell to his knees. She smiled and placed her business card in his front coat pocket “Call me sometime” and then left without another word. 

After his team eventually found him, he quickly had to come up with a convincing story about how his suspect ended up with a snapped neck. After a few days of recovery, he called the number on the card, with the woman showing up at his flat not a few moments later. 

********* 

“Well, well, well” a voice appeared in front of them “New toy, Cereza? You did always have good...taste”. A woman in her early thirties appeared, dressed in a low-cut, skin-tight, black lace dress. One side of her head was shaved, the other in braids. 

Pulling away from Lestrade, she smiled “Good evening Ciri, how are you, my friend?” 

“Friend is it? I distinctly remember telling you never to show your beautiful face in my club again?”

“Did you? Must have slipped my mind…” she caressed Lestrade’s chest fondly. 

“Well, as slippery as your mind is, I must ask you why you are here” She sat down beside Cereza “...and if you might be willing to share, you know for old times sake” gesturing to Lestrade. 

Cereza brought his head down into her neck and caressed the back of his head. 

“Sorry, he’s not for sale” she sighed.

What is it that you want?” she inquired. 

“The usual. Information.”

Lestrade tensed hearing Sherlock’s message of 2 suspects at the bar. Cereza ran her hand up and down his arm and whispered “go to him”. He slowly made his way out of Cereza’s lap.

Ciri quirked an eyebrow “What do you want to know?” she said with a sigh, raking her gaze over Lestrade once more as he walked away. 

“Someone in London has been draining and killing. In fact, you have two that I don’t recognize in your club right now, did you know? Let me remind you that I own London. If these miscreants are allowed to roam the street, that's bad for business; both mine and yours. Who are they, and whom is their leader?” 

Ciri relaxed in the seat beside her. “He showed up about 2 months ago with a handful of them. I’ve noticed their number increased substantially over the last couple of weeks” 

“What does he want?” Cereza asked. 

“What do all men with power want? More power. How cliché... However, the two that you saw in the club are not the ones you’re looking for. They belong to an old friend of yours.” 

“When you say, friend…” Cereza continued. 

Ciri smiled like the cat caught the canary. 

“A name. Give me a name.” Cereza pressed. 

***********

John paced the roof of the nightclub, keeping a look & ear-out for any trouble down the alleyways and checking to make sure Sherlock was still alive. When Sherlock informed them that there were two suspects in the club and he was purposely getting closer to them, it set John into a bad place mentally. Of course, Sherlock would go headfirst into danger. And like a punch to the gut, John heard it. Sherlock’s heartbeat all of a sudden kicking into overdrive. Something changed, something went wrong. 

“Sherlock, what’s going on?” He quickly spoke into his mic. 

No response. 

“Sherlock, answer me” 

John couldn’t take it anymore he went to go through the rooftop exit but he heard a soft “whump” behind him. He turned and thought he must be looking at a ghost. 

"That's.... not possible" "No, you're dead" "Moriarty" 

-Sherlock -John -Ciri

On the rooftop stood the specter of James Moriarty. The hair and jawline differed, but the same dead shark eyes and cheshire grin remained. John didn't move. He couldn't look away. 

"You must be Dr. Watson" an irish lilt in his voice. "Didn't know that you played for our team nowadays, must have been a recent development, hmm?" He grinned. With a snap of his fingers, he appeared directly in front of him. John moved back but he grabbed the lapels of his jacket and kept him there. He ran his fingers over the bumblebee pin "Ah, I see you've already been claimed. Shame." 

The rooftop door burst open and Cereza was on him in a second. One arm pushed between him and John and the other reaching out around his throat. 

"Hello my dear, good to see you again" he rasped.

"Why are you here? she growled 

"Isn't funny, even after all this time, we keep running into each other" he garbled. "If it's not us, it's one of our family. Seems we're destined to always be at odds with each other". 

A deeper, more feral growl came louder "Give me one reason why I shouldn't kill you right now?" squeezing even further. 

"Be...cause...you don't kill.... do you?" he said between chokes. 

"Perhaps I'll make an exception" moving now into his personal space. 

Sherlock and Lestrade scrambled to the rooftop and stood on either side of the entrance listening. 

"How is this possible?" John breathed "You died 4 years ago" 

"I've been... dead... a lot *choke* longer than that, I'm afraid Dr. *cough* Watson" he struggled "My dear, would you mind not squeezing so hard *chokes* it's hard to...have a ...conversation". 

Cereza loosened her grip slightly but held him still firm. 

"You gentlemen might as well join the party as well" he called Sherlock and Lestrade. They appeared in the doorway and made their way over. 

John moved to them immediately "Stay behind me" he said now putting himself between them and Moriarty. 

"I'll ask you again" dropping her voice "Why. Are. You. Here?" London is NOT your territory." 

"It seems we have a common enemy, my dear. I simply came to chat" bringing his hands up in surrender. 

"Explain... quickly" still holding him. 

"Tell me, have you had a string of new vamps popping up in your city, along with several bodies? Hmm? Yes? Well, the same is happening in Dublin. That's why I came here." She released him and took a step back. 

Clearing his voice and adjusting his suit "Seems someone has gone rogue and started to turn and kill whomever they choose. I haven't been able to hunt them down myself. I heard London was experiencing something similar, so I thought why not pay Holmes a visit?"

Sherlock narrowed his eyes and asked, "What do you want from me?" 

Moriarty glanced at him "Oh my, now isn't this interesting" grinning widely. "I wasn't referring to you Sherlock dear, although we MUST discuss the death of my last living descendant, the word is; you were partly responsible for that".

Looking back to Cereza "Darling, have you been naughty? Have you not told them who you are?" 

"Well then.." clicking his tongue "...perhaps I've intruded enough this evening" reaching into his suit jacket he pulled out a business card and handed it over to Cereza "I'll be staying here the next couple days, mobile number's there as well."

He whistled and the two other irish vamps appeared at his side. "See you soon" he turned and the three all disappeared into the night. 


End file.
